


Do Age Differences Matter?

by autodidactic_squirrel



Category: Trolls (2016)
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Cognitive Dissonance, Denial of Feelings, Emotional, F/M, Feelings Realization, Grey Branch (Trolls), Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Titles, Love Confessions, Self-Discovery, Self-Worth Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:20:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 24,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25832668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autodidactic_squirrel/pseuds/autodidactic_squirrel
Summary: Branch was 6 when they escaped the Bergens.Now, at 21 almost 22 his feelings about a certain someone have changed.
Relationships: Branch & Queen Poppy (Trolls), Branch/Queen Poppy (Trolls)
Comments: 165
Kudos: 87
Collections: Best Broppy, Top Shelf Broppy





	1. Inappropriate feelings and Bad logic

He couldn’t possibly... But he loved her. It was idiotic. More than idiotic, it was _inappropriate_! _Sixteen_ , practically a kid! How on earth could he love her? But he did. He really did. 

Branch sat helplessly on the forest floor in a daze. He’d stopped paying attention to the direction he’d been going some time ago, no reason to worry about it now. He just had to get away.

It was terrible. Awful.

His life was over. 

He flopped onto his back and lay, arms spread wide, looking at the canopy above. Bright, crisp leaves and an irritating patch of blue sky taunted him, looking so cheerful when he was doomed. 

And he was. 

Branch was doomed. 

That was all there was to it. He should go back and face the music. His reputation would surely not survive, but with luck maybe he’d make it out alive. But, then again, this was Poppy he was talking about, she’d never let him live it down. 

They’d known each other most of their lives. God, they were even _friends_ for much of that time. Weird friends, but friends. Oh, he’d deny it, naturally, but for him, now, after all these years, to suddenly like her... not like her, love her! It was _unthinkable_. It had to be wrong. She was his _friend_ , and barely even that! His very _young_ friend. Branch couldn’t love her, not like that, not be in love with her. 

But when he closed his eyes, she was there, beautiful, smiling, warming his heart like he couldn’t believe. He could rant and rave and deny it all he wanted, but it was too late. He was in love with her. 

“I’m in love you, Poppy.” He said it aloud as a test. It _should_ have sound wrong, sarcastic or something, but it didn’t. Instead, it sounded like truth, like hope or a little prayer. Something sacred. He couldn’t possibly have feelings like _that_. He’s Branch—angry, loner guy. He hates things and doesn’t do happy. How, how could he be in love with the troll embodiment of happiness? She’s just so...

_Amazing._

Annoying!

_And stunning. A vision in pink._

This was wrong! She was like... like a little sister!

_Liar. She’s never been that. Poppy has always been so much more._

I’m 21, nearly 22. I can’t love a 16-year-old. It’s... just... just wrong.

_In a few more years it won’t matter at all._

Oh, man. This was the worst. Not only was he in love—age inappropriate love to boot, but no way could she love him back. He’s grey and awful. He’d be a laughingstock if anyone found out. It would probably humiliate her, too.

Grumpy old Branch in love with Princess Poppy. Hilarious. 

He felt tears ready to fall, stupid, useless tears. And why not cry? He might as well. He was a ruin of what he believed he was. Strong, hah! Self-sufficient, clearly not. He didn’t deserve respect, hypocrite that he was. He fell in love with everything he wasn’t, everything he swore off, wrapped up in perfect pink skin, with beautiful rose eyes, soft hair and an incredible voice. When she said his name like she did today... he’d never survive if she spoke to him like that. 

_Fool_. 

He thought he could escape feelings and pain by distancing himself from everyone, but he was wrong.

Poppy _wouldn’t_ stay away.

There had to be some way to fix this. He’d pull his hair out if he didn't do something. Maybe it’s like food cravings. He couldn’t have what he wanted, so... something else? Maybe that was the answer. Find someone else to be with. That made sense, he’d push her out of his mind. He was an adult, and there were always a few trolls who were looking for a... a quick connection. He shivered, that was so not what he wanted. Not by half. He wanted a loving connection, a deep and meaningful one, but he was practical. Survival came first, it had to, and he could already tell that this feeling for Poppy was out of control. 

He would do what he had to to get her out of his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to try out the characters with a bit more age between them and see what happens. Let me know if there is interest in this, I have more than one version, so I’ll wrap it up either way.


	2. A different kind of party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Branch steps way outside his comfort-zone to get Poppy out of his head.

Early evening in the village... Families and friends talked and shouted to one another in the trees. Someone sang. Branch cringed, they were mostly on-key. The village was not his favorite place this time of day, but it beat being here at night. How they hadn’t been discovered defied explanation. The noise alone should have led the Bergens here ages ago.

The main party for the night wasn’t up and running yet, hopefully it would be a quieter one. The sun was already setting and it was getting darker by the minute. Soon it would be fully dark, new moon style dark.

Branch walked, mostly unnoticed, along one of the village paths in the forest floor. Embarrassing as it was, he got directions to the “gathering” from Doctor Moonbloom. Fortunately or unfortunately, she was his doctor, so he could ask her and she wasn’t allowed to tell anyone.

This was so humiliating. He didn’t like physical contact with others, he certainly wasn’t one of those trolls who wanted meaningless physical intimacy...

He wasn’t going through with this, was he?

Poppy’s pod lit up in the distance, like a glorious pink beacon. His heart leapt thinking of her, he wanted to see her, not show up at some dark of the moon party and hope to “make friends” with an anonymous female for the evening.

He shuddered thinking of what was involved. Branch hadn’t even kissed anyone, yet. How could he just...?

He stopped walking, turned around, and started marching himself back home. He couldn’t do it. That was the truth. He couldn’t do something meaningless with a troll he barely knew when what he wanted, what he needed, was a deep and loving relationship with... with someone.

Someone’s pink pod glowed brightly, shining light on the path, like a promise. Which it wasn’t, and even if it was, it wasn’t for him. Too old. Too angry. Too grey. Poppy could never love him and he _shouldn’t_ love her.

Branch slowed his pace and stopped. If Poppy would never see him the way he saw her, then he should get it over with and move on. He turned back towards the party but didn’t take a step.

Poppy was home. The light in her pod was on. He could go and confess. Maybe she’d laugh, but it would be done with and he wouldn’t need to spend time wrapped up with some troll not her. He needed her, but he couldn’t have her. It was stupid. He was stupid. Branch stood in the middle of the path unsure of which way to go.

He looked longingly at her pod. Poppy was there, right now, two minutes away. He could tell her he loved her, and, if she’d have him, sweep her off her feet, into his arms and kiss her, show her the depth of his feelings for her, shower her with love and affection— which he would NOT do since she’s too _young_! This was maddening!

It would never happen like that, _anyway_. He sighed and looked down the dark path to the party. It felt like an omen. The lovely pink pod or the dark path. Well, he wasn’t fit for the lovely pod or it’s occupant, so the dark path was the only option open to him.

  
He reached the entrance, a little wood door in a tree trunk. No one greeted him, for which he was grateful, but sensual music permeated the walls. A little slip of paper and a pen hung on the wall in front of him as he entered. A door on the left led to the lounge/dance floor and bar. Trolls would mingle, meet other interested parties and perhaps go for a stroll or to someone’s pod. The door on the right, well, that was what the paper was for, anonymity. There were booths and little rooms, trolls wrote in the boxes. ‘Good times female preferred.’ ‘Fun-loving, more the merrier.’ Stuff like that. He skimmed the offers already written down. Not much detail. Oh well. He could write his own. But what to say?

He wrote something and headed to the empty room.

\- - -

Hopelessly unrequited Romeo seeks Juliet.

Lights off, conversation not welcome.

\- - -


	3. Hello Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Branch waits in the room. Lights off, listening to the music from the lounge, trying to stay and not bailout when he’s already there.

He fidgeted. This wasn’t him, sitting alone in a darkened room waiting for... what was he waiting for exactly?

Nope, not doing this. It was a stupid idea from the start. Branch stood up and crossed most of the way to the door when it clicked open and they bumped into one another.

“I’m sorry I—” a finger pressed to his lips, cutting him off. The finger’s owner raised her lips to his ear. Her cheek brushed lightly against his as she shushed him. She removed her hand and drew him into a hug. 

The thumping music in the background faded as Branch struggled to think over the low hum of his rising panic.

This wasn’t what he expected. 

But what had he expected? That was part of the problem, he hadn't. It stood in his mind as this gaping unknown.

She continued to hug him and he still had his hands hovering awkwardly, elbows held up shoulder high. He probably looked like an idiot, but what should he do? He was trying to leave, but theoretically, this was what he came here for, right? 

As the moments ticked by, his embarrassment grew. Branch just stood there, letting some troll hug him. They must think he’s a weirdo. Oh, or, ugh... that this was a kink. The longer he did nothing, the weirder it would be. He was here, so if he was doing this, he should get on with it or leave. 

Time to choose, Branch.

He was doing this. Ok... He swallowed and reached around, trying to remember where his hands were supposed to go, and tentatively returned the hug.

The beat from the music outside started up again, and she snuggled into his embrace as his arms settled around her shoulders.

She was warm, and the hug felt... nice. Affectionate. All she did was hold him. He imagined it was Poppy holding him. It wasn’t, but in the dark like this, his mind wouldn’t supply a different image.

Branch let his head rest against her and sighed. This troll smelled like her. He turned his face in toward her and breathed deeply. Fresh baked cupcakes wove together with craft paper, glue, and warm grass... Poppy. Dizzy and warm, he took another deep, intoxicating breath, and as he let it out, she loosened her grip and her hand traveled up to the back of his neck. Finding their way, careful fingers touched his face in the dark. Warm hands gently caressed him and she lifted her head, placing delicate kisses on his cheek.

Poppy. He needed her to be Poppy. Please, through some magic, please be her. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, too, then moved passed, brushing their cheeks together and lightly nuzzled her neck.

_This is wrong._

Drunk and sinking into her caresses after so long without love, Branch pushed everything else aside.

As she breathed deeply with him and hugging him tighter, she stepped back, running into the sofa behind her. She sat and pulled him towards her, her arms around his neck, nuzzling against him.

She could be his Poppy. Her motions were so sweet, so loving. Not rushed or impatient. Content to just be together like this and not push him for more. Poppy. She nuzzled deep into his neck and sighed, putting him off-balance, encouraging him to lean on her. He let them fall into a half laying position. Her hands ran over his cheeks and ears, lovingly through his hair and down his back, and he just let her. He longed to look into her eyes. To tell her he loved her with all his heart. That she was the troll of his dreams. The one troll he’d love for the rest of his life. Her nose lifted to his, soft breaths asking to be kissed, placing kisses on his cheeks and rubbing noses.

“I love you—” He didn’t mean to say it. He’d stopped himself just before he spoke her name.

_Not her._

Disappointment flooded him and he pulled away to sit on the sofa. 

This wasn’t Poppy. 

Whoever this was wasn’t her. He couldn’t do this. He needed it to be her. He loved her. Truly loved her. He might fool himself into thinking this was her with him now, but it wasn’t. His love, his kisses, they were for Poppy. Only Poppy. 

_He should be ashamed._

And he shouldn’t and wouldn’t do this to her. He loved her, and this would be so wrong to do to her. She was precious to him. 

_But he wanted to do this to her._

He cradled his head in his hands. All of this was wrong.

Her hand found his arm and squeezed it reassuringly. It didn’t help, he just felt sick. 

_Monster_.

She’s his friend, his dear, sweet friend... How could he? 

“I’m sorry.” He ran his hand through his hair, shaking his head. “I thought I could do this... but I can’t.”

“Because you love someone else?”

He froze. 

He breathed carefully as he stood up and backed away. 

“I’m sorry. I saw you come in. I guessed it was you on the list. Don’t be mad, ok?”

He backed into the door, fumbled the knob, opened it, and ran. 

He was out of the tree in a flash and kept going. 

“Branch wait!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that wasn’t awful or lame. Sorry for the short chapter and mild cliffhanger. The next logical breaking spot is worse, so I’m trying to keep it in the middle of a chapter.
> 
> The next two are mostly finished, so I should have them out in reasonably short order (days, not hours). I’m still writing what comes after that, but I’ll try not to make you wait too long.
> 
> Let me know what you think!


	4. Running Blind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After whatever just happened, Branch had to get away and flees into the cover of darkness that is the forest under a new moon. A dangerous chase takes place.

Branch kept running, she’d been chasing him.

She’s crazy!

_Like he’s any better..._

This whole thing is too much. It was too much before, and now? Unbelievable. 

That girl! Gah! What was she even _doing_ there! She’s way too young to be going to things like _that_. How did she even _know_ about that?

His shoulder collided painfully with yet another tree and ducked before clothes-lining himself on a vine that appeared across the poorly lit path. It was already too dark and only going to get darker. Time to slow down before he got himself injured. 

He should focus on moving. Whatever-the-heck just happened, he wasn’t going to figure it out while charging through the forest at night.

Branch stopped to listen. No Poppy. She must have given up when she reached the edge of the village. It was dark enough he was having some trouble, and this was his part of the forest. Poppy had no chance. 

The hush of the night settled around him. Branch paused to catch his breath and fear tickled the back of his neck. 

A shriek broke through the quiet, and Branch took off. Poppy didn’t stop at the edge of the village. She never would. Why did he think that? And now she was in trouble. 

In darkness like this, she didn’t stand a chance.

This had to be the area where she screamed. Amorphous shadows and murky blackness were everywhere. Only the slight bioluminescence of the fungi kept him from running headlong into things, and his own heartbeat and breathing threatened to drown out any auditory clues. He closed his eyes, willing himself to be still. 

A clatter and crashing off to his left. That had to be her. He moved as swiftly as he could, faster, as the number of glow mushrooms in the area increased.

A shout and scrambling accompanied by the clicks and clacks of hundreds of tiny feet.

Oh no. A centipede.

“Poppy!” He had to get it away from her. Running around yelling wasn’t his favorite tactic, but what else could he do? Centipedes were unbelievably fast, armor bodied, and venomous. He headed towards the sounds, thankful for big ears and sharp hearing.

“Poppy?”

“Branch?—Ack!!” A thud, then silence.

Oh, god. Oh, _please_ don’t be caught! Branch ran, leaves and vines smacking him and catching on him as he went. 

Scrambling and rustling.

Poppy. Branch burst into the next clearing. The glow mushrooms cast an eerie aqua light over the scene: One clearing away, Poppy on the ground and backing away with a huge root blocking her path, and the centipede reared-up and crawling towards her, lifting its body off the ground to wrap around its prey. With no time to think, Branch attached his hair to an overhead vine and swung into the clearing, driving both heels into the side of the centipede’s head. 

Barely even stunned, the creature swiveled in the air and lunged at Branch. If it wrapped around him with those little legs, that would be it—show’s over, lights-out, goodbye Branch. He twisted away from most of the legs, but cried out, scratched by those he couldn’t dodge.

“Branch!” Poppy gasped when she heard him hurt. 

“Poppy! Get out of here!” He rolled as he hit the ground and jumped immediately, sending his hair out for a distant low tree limb. The centipede flowed over anything in its way with deadly grace. His hair fell short of the limb and he landed hard on unstable ground. Branch slipped, loosing momentum and spun, desperate for an escape route. No holes in trees, no limbs within reach, and too dimly lit to find another way out. The centipede loomed, ready to fall on its victim.

  
So this is how it ends...

  
“Hey!” Poppy shouted from a nearby tree and leapt. 

Branch watched in horror as she swung down and slammed into the back of its head. It lurched forward, defying gravity as it pivoted in the air and went for her. 

Branch whipped it with his hair, delaying it a fraction of a second, but enough that Poppy swung from view, unharmed. He vaulted a rock, jumped and reached out with his hair for a different limb. Still too far. He stretched farther, hoping to encounter something, _anything_ to stop him from falling, but there was nothing. With the creature this close on his heels, if he landed again now, it would be over. 

But his hair connected with something. Poppy’s hair? She caught him, he wasn’t going to fall and die! At the end of the swing, he rolled as he landed and Poppy jumped down to his side. He practically could have _hugged_ her, but there wasn’t time.

“What do we do?” But she didn’t get an answer. Branch was already pulling her along. The centipede erupted from the brush behind them. He ran, nearly blindly, death-grip on Poppy’s hand, as it flowed over the terrain in pursuit. He leapt for a tree and she did likewise. The swing carried them up and away, and they paused to catch their breath. Branch heard as it reached the base of the tree. He listened for it to stop. But it didn’t. It climbed as easily as it ran, with no noticeable change in speed.

“Come on.” Still out of breath, he grabbed her hand again and sprinted along the limb. Glow bugs startled and fled the path before them, a brief wave of light showing the way. 

Poppy was wearing out. It took more to pull her along, and she barely kept up. She stumbled. This was bad. He needed a plan. At this rate, the centipede would run them into exhaustion. A stronger breeze came from the area ahead of them, carrying the scent of water. It sounded more open, too. Suddenly, he knew where they were. 

“Can you swim?” 

“Branch, I don’t —”

“Poppy! Can you swim?”

“Yeah, mostly.” 

They were almost to the last layer of leaves and end of the line.

“Branch...?” Poppy must have realized. She tried to stop.

“Don’t slow down. Do you trust me?”

“What? Yes I—”

“Get ready to jump!” She started to yell as they got nearer to the empty air beyond the leaves. The limb narrowed, Branch slipped but caught himself. This was cutting it too close.

“Jump!” He slowed enough to throw Poppy forward by her hand, adding to her momentum. He jumped from the tree a moment later and felt the swish of air behind him as the centipede made a final grab for them and missed.

Poppy screamed as she fell. With no time to warn her, he hoped she’d hold her breath as they hit the water. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no self control, it seems. Hope you like the chapter!


	5. Swimming and Stargazing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Escaping the centipede landed Poppy and Branch in the pond.  
> Branch reflects on his choices and real feelings come out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, enough fussing. I’m posting it and moving on. Next chapter I won’t nitpick so much and should be out sooner. Thanks for reading!

Branch surfaced, gasping. 

“Poppy!” Too dark, much too dark. “POPPY!” 

No no no! She said she could swim! He looked underwater, total oblivion stared back. Branch had zero chance of finding her. He resurfaced, looking uselessly about. “POPPY!!” Her name echoed across the pond.

A soft lapping and coughing, only a few yards away. He tore through the water toward the sound. Light splashes, silence, then light splashes. She was in trouble. He had to be near her now. He held his breath and listened. 

Small sounds somewhere right here. He flailed, plunging his arms through the water and groping blindly, frantic to reach her. Seconds, that was all he had to find her in the pitch blackness. His foot touched something. Branch dove, struggling to get his arms under hers, then kicking hard, he pulled her up and held her head above water. 

“Poppy! Please, breathe!” 

She coughed and struggled in his arms, choking on the water. Either she realized Branch had her and she was safe, or exhaustion finally won out, because Poppy stopped fighting him. She continued to cough weakly, but was otherwise passive in his arms.

Keeping both of them above water was tiring, so swimming in the wrong direction could be disastrous. But staying here wasn’t an option either. He had to get them to safety. But which way? Nothing distinguished one side from another, and without a reference point, it was impossible to judge distance. The best he could do was pick a direction and not second guess. Branch made his choice and started swimming. Hopefully, they were headed toward the shore _without_ the centipede.

Poppy stopped coughing, suddenly alarmingly quiet. Branch waited for several agonizing seconds before he heard her breathing. If she drowned—No, no more thinking. Focus, Branch. Find a safe place first, analyze your decisions second. 

He swam, listening and hoping to hear the shore. As the adrenaline faded, fatigue made itself known. How much farther could the shore be? Branch knew the answer and tried not to think about it. He was wearing out too fast, drag from their clothes and hair was part of the problem. If he didn’t rest soon, or at least to make swimming less strenuous... he didn’t like their chances at that point. Branch paused, treading water. He squirmed out of his vest, and let it sink. Without it, the water flowed around him more easily, he was lighter, and Poppy felt warm against him. The vest was a loss, but one he could accept.

Water lapped against something nearby. The sound was so subtle he almost ran into the first lily pad. A bit further and Branch encountered a larger one, big enough to support their weight. 

Poppy was weary, but conscious, as he struggled to push her up onto the lily pad. She wasn’t heavy, but wet hair and waterlogged clothes... it added a lot. Once she was far enough not to fall back into the water, Branch pulled himself up. He crawled to Poppy’s side and pulled her toward him, falling backward. She coughed and wheezed, sprawled across his chest. Branch just lay there, overwhelmed and relieved to the point of tears. He hated crying, but couldn’t help it. Poppy almost drowned. If he hadn’t found her when he did… He squeezed his eyes shut, willing away what didn’t happen. He found her.

They made it.

Chest heaving, Branch tried to catch his breath, but between the crying and a certain pink princess, it was difficult. 

He needed a moment to process everything, because that… that was way too close. Much too close. Centipedes were _so_ dangerous, he went through the trouble of repelling them. That and no better option existed. Trapping was out of the question for obvious reasons. So repellents were kind of it. They avoided certain flowers, so Branch grew them all over the place just to keep things like this from happening. And it worked, or had been. The rain, it had to be the variable. Frequent downpours must wash the fragrance or pollen away… Or something.

And Poppy, how could he even begin? If she’d said no, he never would have let her go. No way. In hindsight, he shouldn’t have, regardless. Sure, there was a greater risk of kicking or hurting one another, but that didn’t compare in the slightest with what almost happened. If he’d thought for even an instant that she might drown...

“So, you can swim, huh?”

“I said _mostly_.”

“You and I have very different definitions of _mostly_.”

“... sorry.”

She’s sorry... she almost died because of him and she’s apologizing. This day.... he groaned, dropping his head back onto the lily pad and looking up at the stars. They were stunning tonight, and for whatever reason, it annoyed him. Stargazing with Poppy ought to be… well, at least nice. This wasn’t. But the stars didn’t adjust to suit his mood, and the near-impenetrable curtain of darkness put them center stage. This was their moment.

Poppy coughed, it still sounded too wet. Moments longer in the water and she might not have made it... if he’d been able to find her at all. As terrifying as the centipede was, drowning was more visceral… and his fault. He closed his eyes, but that just made the mental image clearer. Grey dawn. Trolls mulling around the edge of the pond. Her friends supporting her father as they pulled her lifeless body from the water... Branch held his breath. Poppy was still laying on him. If he cried more in this position, she’d notice. 

“Poppy, would you get off me, already?” 

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, it was warmer. Hehe...” She shifted over and lay beside him on her back. For once, she chose quiet over ceaseless chatter.

It was out of character for her, but he’d take it while it lasted. He controlled his breathing, but still couldn’t hold back all the tears.

“Hey, Branch?... Thanks.”

“For _what_?” He nearly drowned her after letting her get attacked. What was there to thank him for?

“Everything. Saving me. For caring so much. And... I’m sorry... about the other thing...”

The party. In all the chaos and near-blind panic, he’d forgotten. 

He let out a long sigh. The party was... a problem.

“Let’s just forget it. Ok?”

Forget the whole damn thing. 

“K...”

Branch looked up at the night sky, feeling small. Lonely. Stargazing felt so different now. He loved it, once upon a time, and truthfully, he still did, but looking up at them wasn’t the same. They were still beautiful, but they didn’t awaken in him the sense of awe he remembered. Now, they were just pretty little pinpricks of light. Dim ones, at that.

Not even enough to see by.

He turned his head, but all he could see was her vague silhouette, black against black. She sounded fine, but he needed to know. If only he could see that she was all right...

“Are you ok? Are you hurt anywhere?”

She moved a little, most likely shaking her head. “I’m ok.” She sighed, “I breathed more water than I should have, but I’m ok.” 

She wasn’t hurt. 

“Are you? I heard you yell.”

Was he? He got scratched, but just his arm. He didn’t think that was how the centipede venom worked. It was only the bite... fairly sure, anyway. If Poppy had been scratched, he’d be freaking out, but he felt ok. Still worried sick about her, but not poisoned.

“I think I’m fine.”

“That wasn’t very convincing. Are you sure you’re ok?” Poppy’s fingers touched his arm. The unexpected touch startled him, and he almost jerked his arm away. It would be nice believing he hadn’t flinched, but why lie to himself over the little things. Poppy, now that she’d found him, slid her hand down to rest over his. Or maybe he should have jerked away...

“I’m fine.” 

But... Anytime Poppy wasn’t talking or moving, Branch had to concentrate to hear her breath. Otherwise, it was like she wasn’t there at all. With their hands touching, it was easier to remain in the present, not fall back into those moments below the surface, reaching out, praying to make contact, and every passing second... Branch took careful, practiced breaths, regaining control of his runaway thoughts and seeking something resembling inner calm. The warmth of her hand on his acted as an anchor, a constant reminder that she was here. Poppy was ok. So her hand could stay… for now.

A hush settled into the air as they lay on the lily pad, saying nothing.

Poppy picked the worst way possible to break the silence.

“So... Who is she? The one you love.”

“Poppy...” He sat up. If they were going to talk about this, and they were because Poppy let nothing drop, he needed space to move.

“I’m sorry. You don’t want to tell me, it’s ok.”

“What were you even doing there?”

“I like to read the messages. It’s interesting. I’ve never done anything before, just looked. But I saw you go in and thought maybe you were looking for someone to... I don’t know, spend time with. I thought, why not me?”

“Why not? Do you _seriously_ need me to tell you? You’re way too young, for one thing.”

“I’ll be 17 in a few months.”

That wasn’t right. She was barely 16. Her birthday... yeah, so he’d missed the last one, but... she couldn’t be almost 17. But thinking and doing math, she had to be… Meaning he was _already_ 22\. Branch, apparently, misplaced a year. Had he been away so much?

“Why?”

“Well, that’s how birthdays work. You have one every—”

“No. Why did you follow me in there?”

“Oh.” She paused. He listened as she shifted around and sat up, too. “I wanted to... Are you mad?”

“What do you think?” It didn’t make a ton of sense, but he was. He felt betrayed. “You still haven’t told me why. ‘I wanted to’ isn’t a reason. Why did you want to?”

Why was he pushing on this? There was no way. Poppy couldn’t want to be with him. His mind dropped him back in that room with her, feeling her breath, how it begged him to kiss her. He told her he loved her. Oh wow. That was really her. Those moments, those touches, that was Poppy. And she knew it was _him_.

“Branch... ”

“Poppy?” He put his hands on her arms and slid them down to her hands. He couldn’t breathe. “Please.” He couldn’t get any air, his chest hurt so badly. “Do you...” he swallowed against the tightness, “do you have feelings for me?”

He waited. Felt her move. She must have realized he couldn’t see her. 

“I, uh... yeah...” Her voice was so small. So scared. “Do you hate me, Branch? Please don’t hate me.”

Hate her? “Why would I—Poppy, I don’t hate you.” He could never hate her. Never. She couldn’t be further from the truth if she _tried_. His heart was pounding. He closed his eyes, trying to get his feelings under control. He felt like his body was vibrating trying to contain all these mixed-up emotions.

Oh, this was not good. How he hadn’t already pulled her into his arms, he didn’t know. He shouldn’t. She was too young.

... _almost seventeen_...

And she had feelings for him.

He hung his head, focusing on the control he wanted. Caution. Restraint. Those were some of his skills. But if he moved now, Branch wasn’t sure he could stop himself from holding her, and more importantly, confessing his love for her. 

He stayed still, breathing carefully and holding her hands. Poppy miraculously remained still too. She must be waiting for a response. He’d said he didn’t hate her, but nothing more. He swallowed and wet his lips and mouth. 

The way he asked her, Poppy probably realized... If only he could see her face. 

At least she can’t see mine. What little his voice hadn’t already given away, his face would have betrayed instantly. 

He blew out a long, steady breath. Ok. What was he doing?

She’ll be 17 soon. 

Nope, it didn’t matter. Feelings at 16 and 17 were volatile. Kids had crushes. They were fleeting. She’d change her mind, and it would break him. No. 

His heart sank, and a familiar heaviness replaced the elation he felt moments before. Poppy must have sensed the change in him because she made a small sad noise, like a catch in her throat. He was hurting her. 

“I’m sorry.” He struggled for what to say. She confessed, he pushed and she confessed, but he didn’t. She would think he didn’t reciprocate, but Poppy was pushy. If she knew his genuine feelings, she wouldn’t let go. He couldn’t have that.

_Selfish. Cruel._

He was going to hurt her, the girl he loved, to protect himself. 

_Coward_.

He didn’t deserve her.

Branch turned away from her and wrapped his arms around himself, suddenly cold and feeling exposed.

_She’s the one exposed._

He had no right to feel this way. 

“I’m sorry, Poppy.” She deserved so much better than what he could offer.

“No... I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. I... you’re my friend and I tried to... I can’t believe I did that.” She sighed explosively, “honestly, I’m just glad that you don’t hate me. I mean, I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“What friendship?” He sounded bitter. It was so wrong, taking it out on her, but he was angry and in pain.

“We’re friends Branch, at least I hope we’re still friends.”

He shook his head in the dark, anger at himself smoldering, threatening to burst into flames. If it did he’d lash out at her, say something else he would regret. 

Regret, the ever-present undertone of his life. And Branch just kept adding to it. 

“Get some rest if you can, we have to swim back.”

“Ok.” She sounded defeated. He hated to hear it in her voice, but he’d put it there, and so deserved to suffer anything he felt for hurting her. 

Branch moved farther from her, hugged his knees to his chest, and tried not to think. 


	6. Wet, Lonely, Cold, and Going Nowhere.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stuck on a lily pad, having a rest, Branch gets a moment to think.

Water lapped against the lily pads, small critters chirped and chittered in the distance. Branch sat with his chin on his knees, staring at the muddy grey that was the forest. Cold from the pond and wet shorts seeped into him. It suited his mood. The slight motion of the air chilled his damp skin—he missed his stupid vest.

It really was getting colder, and he’d let them rest long enough. Continuing to sit here wouldn’t make the swim to shore any easier, so they should leave. He just... He wasn’t ready to face her, not yet. How could he pick himself up and just... what? But since when did being ready have anything to do with anything. The breeze stirred his still-damp hair. He needed to get them moving. Wet and exposed on the water like this, they would get very cold.

Poppy shifted. Now that he was paying attention, he heard her shivering breaths and her hands rubbing over her arms, attempting to stay warm. Another reason to feel guilty. It was already his fault she breathed in water, and now she’s cold, too.

_Cold. Wet. Water in her lungs..._

Worry gnawed at him, disrupting his brooding. She could get sick.

_Pneumonia._

He uncurled himself. Poppy could get dangerously sick. He turned toward her and cursed not being able to see her.

“Poppy?”

“Yeah?”

What was he doing? 

_Trying to protect her, obviously._

“You... it’s cold.” Embarrassment and shame squirmed around his intestines. “You could get sick. We should...” 

_He should hold her and warm her up._

“We should get back to shore and get you warmed up.”

“C-can’t we wait for the sun to come up? I think I’m too cold to swim right now.” Her voice wavered as she shivered. Dawn was hours away.

“I don’t think so. It’s only going to get colder between now and then.”

“Oh. So what do we do?” Branch sighed, he’d break his heart for her, over and over if needed.

“Here.” He spoke as gently as he could and shifted closer to her. “I’ll warm you up. Sit next to me.” 

“Really?”

“As long as you hurry it up.” Branch sounded irritated again. He hadn’t meant to, but it felt so much safer. Poppy shuffled over to sit beside him. He shifted the remaining inches so that his side touched her back. Poppy being Poppy ran with that and huddled close against him. Branch formed a ball around them with his hair to hold more heat in. If Poppy noticed, he had no way to know. 

They sat like that for a while, Poppy hugging herself and shivering, and him aching unbearably to wrap his arms around her. Why couldn’t they be like before? Like they always were. That’s what he wanted, for things to be the same as always. Then he could do this, no problem. Ok, so he was never very touchy, but before this, he would just grumble about it. 

Poppy kept shivering. Sitting like this, if it was helping, it wasn’t enough. Branch took a breath and twisted so she leaned more onto his chest, it’d be warmer and freed up his hands to rub her arms. He hesitated, hands hovered above her shoulders before he touched her, afraid he’d give her the wrong idea. Or the right, but impossible one. She sighed and snuggled into his touch as he tried to warm her up in the most platonic manner possible. It seemed to help. After a while, he switched to holding his own arms with Poppy nestled in the center.

It was not a hug. She needed this to be ok, that was all. It meant nothing to him… he failed to convince his heart. Why couldn’t he lie to himself about this? 

Oh, Poppy. Why me? 

What could she possibly see in him?

He was hurting her, he lost his temper, he pushed her away, he even insulted her sometimes. The village grump, living alone at the bottom of a hole, could never give Poppy what she deserved. But he wanted to. And holding back like this, knowing what he knew now... His eyes stung as tears welled in them. Branch didn’t stop them when they rolled down his cheeks. They fell silently, and with nothing else in his manor to betray his pain, Poppy wouldn’t notice.

Poppy sighed, huddled in the circle of Branch’s arms. Feelings... it was laughable, a cosmic joke at his expense. She had ‘feeling’ when he was in love with her... but for her, it had to be a crush. Not love. Just part of being a teenager, more about hormones than anything else. Nothing to get excited over, and certainly nothing to rely on. And it didn’t change anything, anyway. She should be with someone else, someone better.

Poppy stopped shivering at some point and relaxed against him. She shifted, putting more weight onto him, her breathing deep and even. Before he could suppress the feeling, his heart swelled with love for her. She trusted him this much, that she’d sleep in his embrace. Smiling sadly, he pulled her closer, and she settled in, filling the space he made for her. He should wake her. They should leave... but after today, things would change.

Change, any change, good, bad, whatever, no matter what, change was hard. And now he was losing his closest friend at the same time.

_His only friend._

He still thought of her as a little kid sometimes.

She still _was_ a kid in so many ways. How were his other feelings even possible? Branch buried his face in her hair, it smelled nice. He grimaced. This was so unfair! He wanted to scream. Instead, he held her tighter, irrationally angry at life for taunting him this way, waving what he so desperately wanted under his nose, and giving him a little taste, just enough to truly understand what he would never have.

Because he wasn’t going to. Not with Poppy, not with anyone. He was alone. A lonely troll, too worn and bitter for anyone to want, not fit for anything but surviving in the woods, yelling at folks to keep them safe and being ignored. He could almost imagine a crotchety, aged version of himself, still alone, bitter, angry, and shaking a cane at them. Almost, but as soon as he thought it, he knew that would never happen. Life alone in the woods was too hard. If he got old enough, slow enough, he’d just be eaten. No, he’d never be an old troll.

It should have been a comfort, that this wouldn’t last forever, but it wasn’t. He rested his cheek on the top of Poppy’s head, longing for an impossible future, one that didn’t end with him eaten and no one to miss him if they even noticed he was gone at all. He turned his face, burying it in her hair again. He should enjoy this moment with her, make it count. Not feel guilty about his feelings and regret at it already being over. 

“Why...” He shouldn’t be talking to her. Not aloud. She might wake up, but he hurt too damn much to keep it contained, “why can’t I...”

Too many options filled his head...  
...have this...  
...be with you...  
...tell you the truth...  
...let you go...  
...stop loving you...  
But none of them felt right, so his heart supplied the answer.

Why can’t I just love you?

I just want to love you, to have one thing in my life that’s good. One thing beautiful, meaningful. Something that makes this feel like living, not just surviving. But I’m stuck, trapped. Too much a coward to let myself really live, so I just exist and squeeze enough from the forest that I don’t die. But even this won’t last. One day, I will die. So the real question is, can I find the courage to live before I do?

“Branch?”

He jumped. Water sloshed and rippled around the lily pad. He’d forgotten where they were. Branch scrambled mentally to catch up now that he crashed back into reality.

“Hey, Poppy.” Weird, too fake, and way too cheerful. Branch cleared his throat, trying to collect himself.

“Hiya.”

“Ready to get going?” Better, closer to normal. He helped her sit up.

“Not really,” Poppy yawned.

He wasn’t either. He’d been spiraling, too often he got stuck there. But his mind rebelled at being yanked back from his self-loathing/defeated cycle so fast, and he felt off-balance. Usually, he worked himself into a depressive heap and slept it off.

“So, you actually can swim, right?”

“Yeah... the thing is, I don’t know. I swim ok in shallow water, but I put my feet down when I’m tired.”

“Ok. Well, this is exactly like that, but you don’t put your feet down. It’s probably only a 5–10 minute swim.”

“That long?”

He groaned in frustration. “How about this, if it’s too hard you can hang onto me, how’s that?”

“That sounds so great!”

“Yeah. Great...” A chilly swim in the dark, with my annoying ex-best friend/crush hanging off me, probably headed straight into the mouth of some predator. And I still love her... and she has ‘feelings’ for me. What could be better... Yep. This is my life...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So excited for what looks like might be chapter 10, but could be 9, depending on how I break it up. Alas, I have to finish the ones in between first...
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	7. If at first you don't succeed...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ... come up with a new plan before things get further out of control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think there is mild swearing in this one... or perhaps the next one. Just a heads up, Branch tries not to but does curse occasionally here, either now or in the near future.
> 
> I hope when I look at this in the morning it's actually ok. I can't proofread (or remember which chapters have swearing) at almost 2 am when I woke up at 4:30 am yesterday... Night all.

Dawn. Birds and little critters chirping, the sun peeking up over the horizon. Another _beautiful_ day. And Branch, acting the storm cloud, sitting on a rock, notebook in his lap and pen in hand. Frustration oozed from him, if such a thing was possible. “Rolled off in waves” sounded better, but oozed was more descriptive. It was sticky frustration, and it kept getting on things. Grinding his teeth on the pen didn't help much, and if he didn’t stop, he’d eventually break one or the other. 

Fed up again, Branch ripped the pages out, wadded them up into a ball, and chucked the offending bits of paper into the bushes. He fumed for a moment, muttering to himself, before retrieving the mangled things and shoving them into his hair. If he left them outside, someone would find them. That’s how his luck worked, against him. Always. 

Branch sat back down to repeat the process.

Stupid feelings. Stupid Poppy. Stupid stupid stupid!

He’d been hiding since that particular disaster unfolded.  
Thankfully, nothing else happened after they reached the shore. Nothing noteworthy anyway...

_...My friend? Seriously! I don’t think so, Poppy. Friends don’t do shit like that!..._

Nothing much... Branch swam back with Poppy clinging to him the entire way, and he ranted at her about swimming lessons. They walked to the village in near silence, with him getting angrier by the step. 

_...How could you, Poppy? How could you think that was ok?..._

They got to her pod, argued; he yelled and stomped off. No surprise there.

_...Oh yeah. Then as my friend, stay away from me, Poppy. I dare you—Prove you’re my friend and leave me alone!_

_But Branch—_

_No. I’m out. Don’t come after me, got it?..._

So far, she’d stayed away.   
It was better than having to see her constantly, but it did nothing to dull or change his feelings.

Branch looked down at the blank page of his notebook... and the ragged edges of too many missing ones. At this point, he was just wasting paper. The chalkboard was a better choice, but dragging it out here was such a pain. He worked down in the bunker often, but he felt a little cooped up at the moment, and there were more things to harmlessly break up here. 

At the very least, it was time to get back on track gathering and such. That and to work out checking his traps during the day. Doing it at night these last few times, he’d had to dodge both predators _and_ partying trolls.   
  
Stupid Poppy. He was doing fine before.

  
_Liar._

  
And that idiot plan. How was he that dense? Of course he’d think of her. In that situation, how could he not? No, if he wanted her out of his head, something had to change. Branch hated the idea, but he was going to have to meet other trolls. But how? How did normal trolls do it? 

He had to start somewhere... a list. Lists were useful, or at least a starting point.

Let’s see, who did he already know...

Doctor Moonbloom, obviously. He shuddered. Not if they were the last two trolls on earth. No. 

Some of Poppy’s friends, but they were all her age or even younger, so also no.

He ran into Karma in the woods periodically. She seemed ok. They respected each other’s space, and generally stayed out of one another's way. He also had no idea how old she was. 

He briefly considered some of the guys, but couldn’t remember being attracted to any of them. Branch hadn’t actually been attracted to anyone recently... except Poppy.

When he was sixteen, he’d developed a crush on Plum Pimsly. She was older and studying medicine, and so didn’t party like everyone else. She took life more seriously and seemed to think more critically than most trolls he knew. 

And that was basically it. If he wanted a longer list, he’d have to meet new trolls.

  
Hmm... but Plum. She’d never liked him, but that might not be necessary. He just needed to rekindle his crush on her to kick that pink whirlwind out of his head.

He’d been meaning to brush up on his first-aid knowledge. Maybe learn CPR or something. Satisfied with his plan, Branch stowed his notebook and set off for the village.  
And then turned around and came straight back. It was dawn. No one would be awake for hours. 

He sat in a huff and looked for something to fill his time. 

It was so obvious? Why didn’t he think of that right away? Branch shook his head at his own foolishness and set out to check his traps.

\- - - 

“Branch? I didn’t expect you again so soon.” Doctor Moonbloom stood at her desk sorting through some paperwork. 

“Yeah, me neither...” He shut the door behind him.

“Did you need that attended to?” Oh, Branch hid the bandage on his arm under his hand. 

“No. Thanks. It’s fine. Just a scratch.” It itched, otherwise he forgot all about it, except for when he was under scrutiny with nowhere-near his preferred level of personal space. He exhaled in relief when Moonbloom returned her attention to her paperwork.

“I heard you and the princess had an adventure the other night. So, I take it you weren’t able to attend the party as planned?”

“No...” 

“Well, now you know when and where it is.”

Moonbloom wasn’t the most approachable troll. Her body language, clipped manner… really everything about her discouraged conversation. 

“So unless there is something else...?” …including sometimes discouraging it outright. 

“Actually, um...” Branch floundered, his pre-planned script forgotten.

“I’m very busy, please get to the point.”

“Well, uh... I was thinking, perhaps more first-aid knowledge might come in handy. You know me, I like to be prepared... heh...” 

This was stupid. 

“As I recall, you were here a few years ago with that same request. Do you need a review?” At least Moonbloom wasn’t staring at him, her eyes didn’t stray from the paperwork.

“Yeah, sure, and, maybe... some additional training... like for taking care of other trolls.”

“Ah yes, our focus was emergency first-aid you could preform for yourself. So, have you developed an interest in caring for others, Branch?”

“Something like that. So, what do you think?"

“I’m afraid I can’t help you...” Branch didn’t roll his eyes. He needed Moonbloom on his side, so insulting her to her face was not in his best interest. “...not for a few weeks. That’s earliest I can make time.”

  
“Oh. Gee. That’s too bad. So, uh... what about Doctor Plum? Would she have time, maybe?” 

Branch’s gaze drifted to Plum’s office door. He really wasn’t selling this very well. If Moonbloom made eye contact with him, she’d see this for what it was. If he avoided her, she’d probably still know. Branch felt as if her eyes were boring into him but risked a glance, anyway.   
Her eyes narrowed on him.

“I see.” The exit was directly behind him. He could make a break for it and avoid her for a few years. “Give me a moment.” She stepped around him and into the Plum’s office. 

Ok... Alone in Moonbloom’s office. Was he supposed to sit and wait or... the door swung open again and Doctor Moonbloom breezed in, letting the door shut behind her. She returned to work, shuffling through her papers, without so much as glancing in his direction.

“Doctor Plum has some time this evening, meet here at 6. The two of you can make your own plans. I haven’t time to be involved. So, unless there is anything _else_?"

He had a date. Not really. But he was meeting her. Which meant a date. A platonic date. Not even, more like business. An appointment. Better, safer, and less confusing. He had an appointment. Moonbloom lifted her gaze and raised an brow.

“...Right! No. That’s um... I’ll just go.” Had the door opened outward, backing out of the room would have gone better. As it was, Branch pretended he hadn’t tripped, and Moonbloom didn’t comment.

Now, he only needed to kill ten hours. No problem, he never ran out of things to do.

\- - - 

Walked home

Showered

Cleaned the bathroom

Reorganized the cabinets

Swept the storage rooms

Checked the perishables

Made lunch but didn’t eat it

Turned the compost

Gathered ripe seeds for the next year and set them to dry

... only 5 hours left before his appointment.

Ok... what else? 

Update his journal?

It sat on the desk where he’d left it this morning. He should. Journaling, and writing in general, kept him sane. Well... it helped. And it was a habit, one of the good ones. He shouldn’t let “writing regularly” turn into “writing sporadically.” The difference between sporadic and not-at-all was mostly semantics. You stopped doing whatever it was long before you realized you had stopped. He should write…

But he couldn’t keep tearing the pages out either. 

_Hopeless._

Ok. One page. He’d write one page. Easy. He usually wrote tons more... So why was he so apprehensive?

Two hours before his meeting with Plum and a blank page stared at him. Was this his life now? A page filled with nothing where ideas and poetry used to dwell. Just empty. He put his head down on the great off-white expanse. It’s not as if nothing was happening. He should just start.   
But he should address the growlbeast in the room first. He hadn’t written about it yet, and it was important. He couldn’t skip it as if it didn’t happen. 

_But if he wrote it, then it really happened._

Branch sat up, stretched his neck, and cracked his knuckles. He could do this. It was just words.

Just words…

He picked up the pen and started. Keep it simple. He just needed it done. A few lines. That’s all.  
  


Branch finished writing. He placed the pen so it wouldn’t roll off the desk, pushed back his chair and stood. He crossed the room and shut the lights, leaning his back into the wall, and let himself slide down to sit on the floor.  
  


\- - -

~~Poppy we~~ It’s over. She’s out of my life.

I said goodbye.

It’s done.

We’re done.

\- - -

  
He did it. Success... 

...so why couldn’t he stop crying?


	8. Impressions and Observations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Branch meets Plum at the medical pod to discuss first-aid training.

The cool damp of the bunker was not helping his current situation. His eyes stung and if he didn’t get up to blow his nose soon he might just drown. That’s a hell of a way to go, drowned in your own snot. Perfect.  
It fit his life completely.

He wiped his nose on his forearm for the umpteenth time with no improvement, and sighed. Time to move. He picked himself up off the floor and flicked on the lights.

Branch blinked against the brightness as his stomach revolted. After swallowing his own mucus for most of an hour, what else did he expect?

The drawer that held his handkerchiefs mercifully didn’t stick as he opened it, he might have thrown the whole thing if it had. That or sit back down and wallow in self-pity. He pulled a crisp white handkerchief from the drawer and pushed it shut. Or tried to... but it stuck. Because _that_ made sense.

Could be a sign, so Branch took a second handkerchief.

_Superstitious paranoia._

It just needed oiling. It had for a while. As if he needed more to do. He sighed again, trying not to swallow, and shook the handkerchief open. After a few good blows he could mostly breathe again. He hung the disgusting piece of linen to dry. He’d clean it later.

Sighing deeply, he looked at the time.

–5:50–

Well, that wasn’t right. He had someplace to be at 6. His clock must have gotten bumped or something.

Reaching into his vest, he pulled out his pocket watch.

–5:51–

Sugar! He swallowed and frantically changed his vest, nearly tearing the inner pocket yanking the watch free. He splashed freezing water on his face in the bathroom and shook his hair. No time.

Up the ladder and out the door. He had maybe 3 minutes if he was lucky. Less if he looked to see how much time he had left. Three minutes or less to complete a twenty minute walk. _Fantastic_.

\- - -

6:05 pm. Branch was late.

“Hey Plum, you coming? We’re gonna bounce.”

“Not today, I’m meeting someone.”

“Ooo. Got a hot date?” Technically, Plum was friends with these trolls... 

“Not exactly. Its work. Branch is—”

“Branch!” Her _friend_ burst out in a rude laugh. “Well, that is defiantly not a date.” ... but sometimes, she had a hard time remembering why.

“Right! Can you imagine that guy on a date?” Plum shook her head at them, disgusted. Mocking someone who wasn’t there was rude. Mocking Branch because he was different from them, that was unacceptable.

“Be nice. Branch had a difficult time growing up.”

“Who didn’t?”

“I remember you two having had both your parents. And you had your mom and her sisters, and unless I’m mistaken, you still do.”

“Fine fine, but you didn’t and you’re not like that.”

“I was older. It’s different.”

“Yeh. If you say so. If you can ditch the grump we’ll be at the chocolate bar until pretty late.”

Plum spotted Branch as he... it could generously be called “landed” but honestly, it looked like he fell at the edge of the medical pod’s clearing.

\- - -

Branch mostly caught himself. Too much momentum, too sharp an angle of approach. Moments like that were why he tried never to hurry in the village. It drew lots of unwanted attention to him, almost all of it bad. He tried for ‘brisk but casual’ as he walked, but only succeeded in feeling watched.   
_...and judged._  
Plum stood facing three female trolls he didn’t know, she looked up and smiled as he approached, unfortunately her friends spotted him as well.

“Wow, Branch. What happened to _you_? Fleeing imaginary Bergens again.”

“Right! Hah. Good one.” Plum covered her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Hilarious, really.” Branch was still breathing hard, it’s difficult to sound sarcastic when winded. But he rather suspected these girls wouldn’t catch it regardless. “Never heard... that one before.”

“Man, I’d of thought someone with those big ears would listen better, right ladies?” These trolls probably didn’t have an original thought between them, she even got the insult she chose wrong. It was usually ‘hear’ not listen.

“So true!” Ugh.

“Hi Branch, ignore them. They were just _leaving_.” Plum gave her friends a look. At least Plum didn’t approve of their attempts to mock him.

“Have fun, Plum!”

“Doctor Plimsy—” He still hadn’t caught his breath, but plowed ahead anyway.

“Branch, Plum is fine. Doctor Moonbloom said you wanted to learn more first aid?”

“—... apologize for being late... I know you’re busy and—”

“Ok...Why don’t you catch your breath before you pass out, hmm? Then you can apologize if you want.”

“Ok. Good. Whoo.” He doubled over, mostly the stitch in his side was the problem.

“So... everything ok, Branch? Don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t look so good.” Oh, it wasn’t exactly a surprise, but he had hoped no one would notice, that how things were most of the time.

“I’m fine.” He sat on the lowest step of the medical pod’s stairs.

_Fine... Except for realizing I’m in love and it’ll never happen, ever, and losing my only friend in the world at the same time.  
Other than that, everything is just great._

Plum sat also, he could see her out of the corner of his eyes, observing him. She sat quietly watching him for several seconds. Branch wasn’t up for talking. He didn’t feel particularly up for being _conscious_ either, but his feelings didn’t have much to do with anything. And more importantly, ‘anything’ usually didn’t give a damn about him, feelings, physical well-being, existence...

“Ok... well...” Plum clapped he hands down on her thighs as she stood up, indicating her readiness to move on from watching him mope. He should probably just leave now and save himself the trouble, and embarrassment, that had been following him lately.

“So, I’m sorry, but I haven’t actually eaten. Would you mind walking with me?” Moving? Really? Plum clearly expected him to realize this wasn’t meant as a question.

Branch blinked. For some-odd reason Plum looked concerned... possibly because he hadn’t answered yet.

“Uh. No. Sorry. I was just... walking is fine.”

  
  


“So, Branch? Doctor Moonbloom mentioned something to me about you and first-aid? Care to tell me about it?” Plum set an easy pace, but it wasn’t a stroll. She wanted to get where she was headed, but not be rushed about it.

“Yeah... I want to learn a bit more. Currently, I only know what I can preform for myself, and some of that’s useful regardless, but after the other day... if someone else got hurt...”

“I think I understand. Like, say, if someone was drowning.”

Branch flinched and looked away.

“Like that. I wouldn’t know what to do. It’s a safety thing. I should know it and I don’t. That’s all.” It has nothing to do with Poppy almost drowning.

“So purely for informational purposes. Ok, I understand. Research is part of what we doctors do, so I can appreciate a thirst for knowledge.”

Branch didn’t look at Plum. Whatever she privately thought his reasons might be, he was unlikely to change her mind. Staying away from the village the last few days meant he out of the loop on gossip, specifically whatever everyone thought of him and Poppy or their “adventure.” He did not want hear about it. Not when there was no more “Branch and Poppy” to speak of.

Plum led and Branch followed. He still couldn’t catch his breath, despite the easy pace. Now that he wasn’t running, the urge to cry sat heavily on his chest. If he breathed too deeply, he might burst into tears. He could feel it, he wouldn’t get a choice, but he needed to put it off until later, and not breakdown right here in front of everyone. Alone was better. 

_Well, that’s convenient, since he had practical nothing BUT alone-time now._

Laughter rang out from just around the corner. She was coming this way! He couldn’t let her see him like this, how did he even look? Gah! He wasn’t ready to see _her_ at all. This was _exactly_ why he’d been holed-up at the bunker these past few days! Branch ran to the side of the path and pulled a big leaf down in front of himself. Poppy and friends strolled into view mere moments later.

“You ok, Branch?”

“What? Y-yeah. Fine. I’m fine.”

“Ok... so... what are you doing?” Plum taking to him like this might blow his cover. At least Poppy wasn’t looking this way. Not yet anyway.

“Nothing. Nothing. Just uh... checking the foliage. Gotta... uh, gotta have good foliage.”

He pulled a second leaf in front of him, and quashed the impulse to yank her behind the leaves too. Plum was not Poppy, he couldn’t treat her as if she was. From this vantage point he couldn’t see Poppy’s face... she smiled nearly all the time. His heart hurt thinking of her smiling just at him. It was totally irrational, there was nothing he did to deserve her looking at him so sweetly, but she did sometimes. But not for days, now.

_Perhaps never again._

“Uh huh. So... you aren’t hiding from Princess Poppy, then.”

“Wha—Pfft, no. No, that’s, that’d be crazy.”

“Ok.” Plum sounded unconvinced.

“No. I just, I thought, y’know, since I’m _here_ , that this would be a good time to check it, right? The foliage...”

“Because healthy foliage is important....”

“Yeah...”

Plum waited, observing him with mixed curiosity and concern.

“Ok, she’s gone, Branch. You can come out now.”

“Really? I mean, _really_ good leaves, these. These are uh, great...”

She gave him a lame look and raised one eyebrow.

“So, are you going to tell me why you’re hiding from her?”

“I’m not... ugh....” She’s not fooled. Not even slightly. “You know how she is, I’m just not up for her right now.”

“Right now? More that usual. What’s different about right now?”

“I didn’t mean, it’s not like... I’m off today aren’t I.” Branch had forgotten how astute Plum could be.

“We don’t know each other that well, but yeah. I’d say so...Do you want to do this a different day?”

“Yeah. I mean—No! Sorry. No. I want to do it now.” Or I won’t at all.

“Ok, well. Why don’t we go back to the medical pod. It’s usually pretty quiet about now. That way you won’t have to do any more ‘impromptu inspections.’ What do you think?”

“I don’t want to be an in the way, or anything.”

“We won’t be. We’ll use the break area. No one will mind.”

Being in the village like this _was_ making him jumpy. “Yeah, ok.” He shrugged, trying to look casual.

“Oh, hey! There’s a sandwich cart. I’m going to grab something. Would you like anything?”

Last time he ate was probably yesterday. “No. I’m ok. I’ll just be... over here.”

She gave him a conspiratorial smile and raised eyebrow, “Inspecting the foliage.”

“Yep. You got it. I’ll just...” How did other trolls do this? Acting casual was not in his nature. He could feign casual _disinterest_ , but that did not feel like the right way to do... what exactly?

He rolled a pebble in small circles under his foot.

“Yeah right... like I’m gonna look casual.” Who was he trying to impress? Plum? He ‘casually’ observed her from hisnew not-a-hiding-spot vantage point. She wasn’t bad looking, observant to a dangerous level, smart, or she was when they were younger, so presumably she still was.

Plum engaged in easy, lively conversation with the troll making the sandwiches. As they finished talking, she laughed. It was a fine laugh. Polite. Not whatever it was you called that sound _Poppy_ made all the freakin’ time. Branch frowned. Bad timing, because Plum had just turned and was headed over to him. He must have really been scowling because she gave him such a questioning look...

Branch shook his head and tried to school his expression into something more acceptable.

She shrugged it off and returned to her previous one: Easy, confident, self assured, but not pretentious. It was a good look and she wore it well.

_Along side her, he’s a bumbling mess._

Branch smoothed his shorts and scuffed the pebble out of the way. Fidgety was not the impression he wanted to give.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, I just don’t sleep now. Luckily I wrote this earlier. :) I hope the previous chapter wasn’t bad, but I’m posting this one so quickly just in case!


	9. Coincidences & Realizations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Branch and Plum make deal and Branch navigates unfamiliar social territory.

The whole walk back Plum didn’t push Branch to talk, not about Poppy or anything else. Poppy would have pestered him the nonstop until he gave in, but Plum didn’t. She asked chitchat questions and didn’t give him a hard time when he didn’t really answer them.

For her part, she shared the most recent news she’d heard in the village; who had a baby, who died, who got engaged or married, that type of thing. Most of it he already heard, but it meant they didn’t walk in silence and he wasn’t forced to carry on a conversation. It was kind of nice. Not once during the whole walk did the conversation turn to Princess Poppy: Plum avoided her as a topic entirely. Thoughtful, in a way, but it also made him acutely aware that Plum knew _something_ was going on, even if not what, exactly, that something was.

Branch paused to ‘inspect’ more leaves where the path crossed the one that leads to the royal pods... Plum, in a remarkably well-timed coincidence, had to say hello to a friend, and did he mind waiting a second?

She wrapped up her visit when hug-time ended, also a coincidence, which meant Branch got to avoid being caught in a group hug. It also gave him ample time to check and double-check that the path was absent his pink former-friend.

Even calling her that in his thoughts broke his heart. On a cognitive level, he understood. They weren’t friends, he’d ended things with her. But no matter how much he tried, convincing his heart that things with Poppy were done was going nowhere. The best he could do at the moment was to avoid her and ignore the hollow, broken feeling that kept growing inside him. He’d have to get accustomed to it. Chances it would change anytime soon were slim.

 _Zero_.

“Branch?”

Plum stood in front of him, much closer than he realized. As he focused on her, she stepped back.

“You ok? You zoned out for a bit.”

“Sorry. Just thinking.”

“Are you sure you’re up for this today?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be.” One day or another made little difference. They were all about the same.

“If you say so.”

Inside the medical pod, Plum led him through an unassuming door and into the break room. A round table sat in the center along with several chairs, and a kitchenette along the outside wall. The room’s one small window didn’t offer much of a view, a little natural light, and nothing more. Another door across the room stood partially open. Bunk beds, huh?

“So, you stay here sometimes?”

“Yeah,” Plum opened one of the cabinets, “if things are bad, or they go late, we do. Do you drink coffee, Branch?”

“What? Oh. Yeah, actually.”

“It doesn’t happen often,” Plum put the small coffeemaker on the counter and set it brewing. “I’m thankful for that... for obvious reasons, but also” she mock-whispered at him as if it were some terrible secret, “...I prefer my own bed.”

Plum straightened up and waved him in, “You can come in Branch. Don’t stand in the doorway. Please, sit. Make yourself comfortable.”

 _Unlikely_.

But he did sit.

Plum joined him at the table.

“So, first aid, huh?” She pulled a folder from her hair and set it down in front of her. “Since this isn’t the first time you’ve come for training, you’ll need to take a placement test. It’s important that you don’t guess. The goal is to assess what you know and what you don’t. So please, only answer questions you’re sure of. Ok.” He nodded. “Great.”

One hug-time, a cup of coffee, and 3 placement tests later, Plum seemed confident about where to start. She pulled various books and scrapbooks from her hair, selected a few, and handed them to Branch.

“These two have the material I’m planning for us to go over.”

“And this one?” He held the light-blue scrapbook-style book open and flipped through the blank pages.

“That is for you to keep. For notes and questions, or diagrams and information you’d like to refer to later. I can’t give you the books to keep, so this is the best I can do. As for the others, please look them over before we meet next. How does next week, same time work for you?

A week... “I was hoping we meet sooner, but if you don’t have time...”

Plum looked at the materials in Branch’s hands. “How about this, come by when you finish with those and I’ll I try to make time. if I don’t see you sooner then we'll meet at the same time next week? Deal.”

“Yeah. Deal. Thanks.”

“Oh, one other thing. We are keeping track of the work you’re doing on this. I know last time you said you weren’t interested in medicine, but we keep track anyway. And not just you, anyone we train. That way we have a record of who has what training during an emergency or in case you pursue medicine more seriously. Just so you’re aware.”

“Err. Ok... I guess. I don’t have to do anything about it, do I?”

“No. I thought you’re like to be informed, that’s all... I don’t know about you, but it’s been a long day. I’m headed home, I’ll walk out with you.

It was already approaching sunset when they exited the pod. It was awkward, not knowing the protocol for this type of social interaction. When did they part company, for example? Could he simply... say bye and leave, or would that be rude?

“You take this path home, don’t you?”

“Uh... yeah.” Plum called the bunker his home. It shouldn’t be strange, but it was. The bunker was his home, but most other trolls didn’t call it that. Right or wrong, it felt like Plum didn’t judge his decision to live there.

“My pod’s near the north side, but I’m headed the same way you are.Meadow Spriggs has been helping me with my medical plants. Have you met Meadow?”

Branch shrugged: don’t know.

“Hmm. Quiet, yellow skin, light purple hair, glasses... She’s around your age, so you may have met in school.” Plum clearly thought Branch must have met Meadow Spriggs. Most trolls do remember their peers... Branch wasn’t most trolls. He kept very much to himself throughout most of... well, his life. That included his education.

“I um...honestly, I have no idea I’ve met her. Sorry...”

“It’s no problem. If you like, I can introduce you.” Plum’s expression flicked to an amused grin before she hid it. She found something was funny and wasn’t saying what.

_Laughing at him._

Plum was kind. Branch knew it. He’d seen it and experienced it firsthand in the limited number of times they’d interacted. So her laughing at him hurt. He’d actually believed she wouldn’t do it. Her face brightened, and she gave him that same amused smile from when he’d been ‘inspecting’ the greenery.

“She’s kind, a bit shy, but well worth the extra effort to get to know.” Plum’s eyes betrayed the mirth she kept contained. “Rather like you, actually.”

Branch stopped walking. What just happened?

Plum paused and glanced back when he didn’t follow, “You coming, Branch?” She... something just happened and he needed to stop and figure it out. “Well?” Plum smiled in that knowing way again. It was nice, but also... disconcerting.

And she was waiting for him.

“Oh.” Branch startled himself into trotting to catch up. They fell back to into walking for a while with nothing else being said. His suspicion that she was as smart as he remembered may have been off. She was much smarter than he remembered, likely smarter than him. And she confused him. Was it on purpose?

Branch tried to remember the words... shy, kind... worth getting to know... Then the part that literally stopped him in his tracks, “rather like you.” 

Like him? Sugar, he might cry. Shy, whatever, it was true. Kind, eh... too subjective. But worth getting to know? Plum thought he was worth getting to know. That wasn’t subjective, Plum seemed like she knew her own mind.

But why? What was there to like?

Maybe she was only being nice. Well, if that’s what it was, it worked. He’d assumed she was making fun of him, but now it seemed possible that she was excited to say something she thought he wouldn’t expect. To compliment him.

They continued walking, but Branch slowed and fell behind.

If she thought he was worth getting to know, did that mean she wanted to be friends?

_He didn’t need friends. Didn’t want them._

But he did, deep down. He wasn’t worth anyone’s time. Poppy was the only one who reached out. She kept trying to be his friend, despite how he acted, regardless of how he pushed her away. She never gave up on him.

Poppy was his best friend.

_But not anymore._

“Meadow’s great with flowers and all different growing things, she helps with medicinal herbs all the time. Be patient, ok? She spends most of her time with plants...” Plum stopped as he continued to fall behind. “Hey... are you ok?”

He nodded, trying not to look at her.

Plum didn’t respond to his nod. She just stood there, looking at him for a few seconds. Then she sighed and took a seat on one of the small mushrooms at the side of the path.

Branch closed his eyes firmly but stayed standing where he was. He was still in the village. Crying here was unacceptable, but if he couldn’t prevent it, at least it was getting dark and the path was deserted. Only Plum would see. He still hated the idea, but Plum wasn’t everybody.

But she wasn’t Poppy, either.

“Branch...” Plum wanted him to sit, too, but even hearing his name distracted him enough that a few tears fell. He took a deep breath and went anyway, taking a mushroom near her, but not within touching distance. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head. He couldn’t talk, let alone about Poppy.

“It’s ok. We don’t know each other well, it’s not surprising that you wouldn’t want to. Do you have someone else you can talk to?”

“No.”

“Ok.” No judgment colored her tone. She paused, either waiting for him to say something or thinking. After a few moments, she continued. “I’ll say this and then let it drop. Talking things through, it helps sometimes. If you decide you’d like to talk with me, I’ll make time. Ok?”

He nodded.

It was nice that Plum cared. Why she cared... Branch had no clue. It was nice all the same. He liked her. She was nice. If this kept up, they might even become friends.

 _Unlikely_.

But Plum would never replace Poppy. Even if friendship developed into the crush he’d been trying for, even if somehow, someday he was able to love her, Branch would _still_ love Poppy. He would always love her.

_Poppy didn’t love him._

And now they weren’t even friends.

“I’m gonna go.”

“If that’s what you want. I don’t mind waiting.”

He shook his head. Plum shouldn’t waste her time. 

“Ok, Branch. Get home safely, ok?”

“Ok.”

Branch walked a few steps and paused, not looking back, “...thanks.”

  
\- - -

Plum watched the loneliest troll she’d ever met disappear down the path. 

Something had changed. Something between Branch and Princess Poppy. If she wanted Branch’s trust, going around him to ask Poppy about it was didn’t seem like the best move. When she’d seen Poppy last everything seemed normal, but Poppy was a tough read. Whereas Branch hid behind sarcasm and anger, Poppy used overwhelming excitement and humor as distractions.

Plum had known Poppy for a long time and noticed more often than those around her when the Princess was being evasive, but it was still difficult to tell for certain.

Poor Branch, she’d indicated she’d like to get to better acquainted and he’d broken down. Hopefully, he’d come back for training as planned. Doing things in the village... that seemed like a positive change. One she’d encourage it if possible.

Branch probably had forgotten, but they were headed the same direction. Plum didn't want to make him uncomfortable or feel crowded, and so she waited. He was probably far enough ahead now, though.As for the situation with Poppy, she’d give it a little time and see if it sorted itself out. If it persisted, or he stopped coming to the village, then she’d talk with the Princess.

Too bad she didn’t get to introduce Branch and Meadow. Although, given how shy they both were, conversation might be tough at first. She’d mention him to Meadow and see if meeting Branch interested her quiet friend. Karma and Branch also might enjoy one another’s company if either of them gave the other a chance.

Over the last couple of hours, one thing was becoming quite clear: Branch was reaching out, either for help or company. Asking for more training, saying yes to walking, wanting to meet sooner than a week... None of that proved anything, but she was sure of it. It was just a feeling, but Plum trusted her gut.


	10. Friends in Unexpected Places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Branch finds a quiet spot to think before heading home, but also takes advice from a new friend.

Branch left the path as soon as he turned the corner. He was too upset to be walking through the woods at dusk.

A cluster of shelf-mushrooms high in the trees seemed a likely refuge. He could stop there for a little while and collect himself before walking home.

  
Branch sat on one of the largest mushrooms with his back against the tree trunk.The other mushrooms above and to the sides gave a sense of privacy and security. He wiped his eyes, snuffling, and trying to calm down.

Plum was being so nice to him and he blew it. Looked like an idiot. Acted like a weirdo. She said something nice and what did he do? He fell apart in front of her, what else! Nobody wants someone like that around. They want fun. He’s not fun.

Branch sighed and looked beyond the edge of the shelf-mushrooms. The vines and trees swayed as the breeze glided by. Glowbugs visited their favorite flowers, bouncing and humming amongst the white and pink blossoms. A chorus of chirps and cheeps was just getting warmed up as the daytime hum set up for the night.

It was cool again, crisp. A pleasant contrast with how wet it’s been. He sighed a little too loudly and a nearby glowbug floated over humming at him and bouncing cheerfully. He half-smiled at the thing. Overly cheerful. Excessively friendly. Like someone else he knew. The half-smile fell away and the bug ceased its bouncing.

“Oh, no. It’s not you... I’m just...” Branch sighed again. “You know, I don’t even know.”

It cooed sadly, then it bounded away. Branch shook his head. Such silly little creatures. But it was nice... not being alone, however short-lived. How bad was it, when glowbugs filled in for proper company?

A bright greenish glow sprung back into view.

“What now? Didn’t get enough of me the first time?”

Sad it had left… irritated it was back. Yep, must be feeling better...

The little bug whizzed straight at him.

“Whoa, hey!” Branch put his hands up to block, but the bug didn’t ram him, instead it bounced and spun just in front of his face then started nudging him. Or was it trying to cuddle him? “Would you... hey! Cut it out.”

It stopped and hummed, sounding disappointed.

“What’ve you got to be sad about?”

It butted his cheek and bounced again.

Branch couldn’t help it, he chuckled. “You want me to feel better, huh? Sorry pal, ain’t gonna happen.”

His new “pal” hummed loudly until it became a trill. That’s when Branch got mobbed.

A dozen or more glow bugs appeared out of nowhere, all trying the same basic routine as the first one. The fuzz was much softer than he expected, and it tickled. Caught off guard, Branch squealed and jerked away from the tickle-y thing. All the bugs jumped back at the outburst. One bug glanced at another, bouncing, glancing, looking at Branch...

Uh oh... “Oh no. No. Don’t even... no... I’m warning you.” He wagged a finger at them.

They dive-bombed him.

Branch threw his arms open and roared at the little critters, which vanished as they had appeared. Only a few brave ones peeked from behind leaves.

“I warned you.” Pathetic cooing. One bug, possibly the original, and a few of the others shyly tried approaching him again. They kept peering up at him, acting adorable but nervous. Another shout and sudden motion sent the remaining bugs fleeing. The one nearest to him landed on the ground, trembling, too scared to fly. Branch dropped his arms to his sides.

Great. He was terrorizing glowbugs now.

The little goof wanted him to feel better, that’s all. So it tried the things any other troll would’ve liked. Poppy would’ve been thrilled, she loved the ridiculous puff balls. And he’d scared this one so much it couldn’t fly away. He sighed and sat in front of the cowering bug.

Branch ran his fingers through his hair, “Hey, so... I’m sorry. I never should’ve scared you like that. But please take no for an answer next time, ok.” He was talking to a bug. Seriously? But it looked calmer and Plum suggested he talk with someone. She didn’t say they necessarily had to talk _back_...

And there were worse audiences, after all. Basically, any that _could_ talk.

“You probably won’t understand,” he laughed at himself “and I can’t believe I’m doing this, but I...” He shook his head. “y’know, I don’t even know anymore. Suddenly everything just got so hard. I mean, life wasn’t great before, but it worked. I was mostly ok...” he snorted, “and then I had to go and fall in love.” It cooed happily. Branch laughed, it was a little bitter, a lot lonely. “I wish. But it’ll never happen.” He picked at the edge of his vest. “We’re not right for each other. I’m...” he raised his shoulders and indicated himself with his hands. “...this. And Poppy, she’s... she’s just so...” he couldn’t come up with a word. What did it matter if it made sense, he was talking to glowbugs? They wouldn’t understand, anyway.

The bug wiggled up under his hand and hummed. “Thanks.” Branch rubbed its silky fluff and wiped unshed tears from his eyes, “I miss her, that’s all.” Another bug came back and settled near him. “She’s the only friend I’ve ever had, and I blew it.” Glowbugs, several more than he knew were there, hummed and cooed or head-butted him. He patted a few of them.

“I just can’t let her go. It’s like, one day I woke up, and she was my world. I get out of bed, I keep trying even when things suck, because of her. She’s got this overly optimistic feel-good worldview. But that's not reality. She’s so naïve... and she’s sweet and gentle. And the stupidest part, I want to protect her. She’s so foolish, she takes dumb risks, and it makes me crazy. But when I’m with her, the way she treats me… sometimes I almost forget that I’m grey.”

“I don’t think she has any idea. But I love her, I love her so much.” This was awful, pouring his heart out to a bunch of glowbugs.

But didn’t feel as much like drowning as when it was only in his head. “It makes no sense, but she’s my heart. That’s the real problem. I’m out here, walking around, without my heart. And it hurts—all the time. It’s killing me and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Glowbugs pair up, bouncing: go find her. “I can’t. I shouldn’t even feel this way. We just can’t be together, it doesn’t matter what I want.”

 _What I want_... I keep trying to convince myself I don’t want any of it, but felt honest saying it. Unfortunately, admitting that he wished they could be together didn’t change a thing. And the glowbugs didn’t understand it, regardless. Some of them push him to move. “Stop it, would yah! No.” He sighed, calming down again, “But thanks... for listening.” They nuzzled Branch, cooing, and humming. Glowbugs, go figure. “I should go.” They bounce excitedly, jumping into pairs, darting around. “No. Home, I should go... ah, forget it.”

As he stood up, and the bugs paired up again, bouncing all around him. “I get it, I’m just not going.” He looks in the direction of her pod. She’s probably not there, anyway. What would she even say if he showed up? What would she do?

Hug him.

Hugs from Poppy... Branch hasn’t had a hug since this all started. Too long, even though he hates hugs, which he does, he still needs contact. Him holding her on the lily pad. That was it.

Without a doubt, if he showed up, Poppy would hug him. She’d be thrilled to see him, acting as if nothing happened.

_If that were true, she wouldn’t be staying away._

Even so, she’d hug him. It’s what she does. Or used to do. Usually, they’d run into one another a few times a week... if not more.

Or they did.

He sat heavily on the mushroom flopped onto his back looking up at the leaves, dark silhouettes against deep blue.

“What am I supposed to do?” He sat up and looked to his new friends as if they’d have an answer. “I’m stuck. I need her, I can’t stop loving her... I have no idea what to do?” They nudged and pushed him. More animated than last time. Persistent.

“Ok. I’ll... I’ll think about it.” He’s talking advice from bugs now, too. They bop him into motion, nudging him to stand and pushing him onward. “I can’t do it _now_. I don’t know what to say.”

Disappointed bugs dim and flicker. They’re so pathetic when sad. Branch sighs, “How about this, I’ll go. Just to see her and think. I’m not gonna talk with her. Got it?”

Bouncy cheerful responses. “Ok.”

As he traveled farther from their home area, the bugs wandered away. Branch sat alone looking at Poppy’s pod. It was dark, as expected. At this time of day, she would be at a party of some sort.

Longing for her to be here was dumb. If she were, he’d just be holding back from doing something about it. That was just as stupid, he already knew he wouldn’t _actually_ do anything, whatever he might like to think. But... it would be nice to see her. Even from a distance.

Branch breathed a little better to be near her home. He felt a bit lighter. It seemed unlikely but maybe talking helped. Whatever the reason, it was time to go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like the chapter. As always I’d love to hear your thoughts! Thanks for reading!


	11. Work in Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Branch arrives home and looks for something to occupy his time.

The bunker, home sweet bunker. Branch sighed, it was such a relief to be home. Sure it wasn’t “cozy” by typical troll standards, but Branch didn’t care if _they_ like his home or not, because _he_ loved it. So hypothetical _they_ could take a hike.

He slid the stone door shut, closing the outside world exactly where it belonged: outside. Danger, noise... glitter.Branch had gone to the village and made it back in one-piece. Successfully survived or evaded all manner of horrors that such a trip involved. He might even have slipped passed some dangerous predators, too. 

_...and for a few minutes, he hadn’t felt so very alone...  
_

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Yep, it was good to be home. 

Alone.

  
By himself.

Just him and some well-deserved quiet.

Branch cleared his throat, for some reason the quiet took up more space than usual. Probably just too much time in the village, that’s all. It didn’t mean anything.

But the bunker, the bunker was perfect. No extra furniture cluttered the living area. Only the things he needed and used. Nothing extra. Nothing for anybody but him.

And that was what he wanted. That was always the plan. 

_Almost always..._

Nobody else wanted to be here, anyway.

_Except for Poppy._

Branch threw a few provisions together and called it dinner. He ate at his desk, most times with a book or project in front of him. It wasn’t eating dinner alone at your desk, you just _happened_ to be eating while doing something else.

Today he ate to get it over with, he focused on finishing the meal he wasn’t interested in eating to begin with. His body had to be fed whether or not he felt like it, and over the last few days, he indulged his mood more than he should. If he didn’t eat, he’d become weak... weak meant slow, easy prey.

_And what if she needed him?_

He pushed the thought away, and gulped down the rest of his food. 

With dinner out of the way, he should straightened up.

Clean dishes, clean counters, perhaps the floor next? Branch grabbed the broom and swept a few times, but even the corners were clean. There’s no satisfaction to be had cleaning an already clean room, so he returned the broom to its hook and surveyed his living space.  
Neat, tidy, all things in their places, easily accessible, and utilitarian. Very few trolls would consider it comfortable, but it was under control.   
It was known.  
  
Stable.

Safe.

Branch drummed his foot against the floor, filling the silent space. He needed something to do. 

His journal sat on the desk. At this point in the evening, he usually wrote... 

_...It’s over. She’s out of my life..._

The medical books! He _had_ to read those. He’d agreed to do read them, so he should do that first. That made sense. He would just have to write later... much later.

He pulled the books down from his hair.

_Principles of Emergency Medicine,_ fascinating.

Or 

_Field Medicine Protocols and Procedures._

Plum didn’t say which to start with... although the word ‘principles’ gave him a vague idea. They should be a quick read and then he’d return them and apologize for changing his mind. Thanks, but he wasn’t interested after all. Besides, Plum was smart, so it wouldn’t take long for her to realize he wasn’t worth the trouble. This way, he’d save her some time.

At any rate, he’d promised to read them and was a troll of his word—one who deeply needed a distraction...

First aid was useful stuff, so whether or not he pursued it further, he’d read to learn. Otherwise what’s the point in reading? And life was unpredictable—you never knew what might happen or what you might need.

_Or who might need it._

Okay! Studying!

Books, check.   
Pen and scrap paper, check and check.  
Notebook, check.

Branch stretched and cracked his knuckles—Study time.

Focusing, taking notes, copying diagrams, making choices about which information he might need but not remember without notes...

Mental effort wasn’t as good a distraction as manual labor, but it was the next best thing.

...  
  


It was official; medical books were boring. Worse than survival manuals. So much of the information was way more detailed than he needed to know. He read it regardless. 

Branch pushed the dull but important book away and leaned back in his chair. The other book was slimmer, but he wasn’t even half done reading this one. He wouldn’t be finishing them tonight after all.

Time for a break, riveting as Chapter 6: hygienic practices and procedures was. Branch massaged his temples. He needed an actual break. A change of activity would be nice and help lessen the chances of forgetting _everything_ he just read. 

From one of his cubbies, Branch pulled down a box of assorted materials, glue, and various bits and bobs, followed by mixed brightly colored remnants of paper. Few whole sheets remained, and a variety of other items were low. He’d have to get more soon, but these particular supplies posed a problem. They didn’t fit his image, so getting more was tricky. Very soon, he was going to have to deal with it, or do without. 

Most scrapbooks were frivolous and needlessly glittery, but they conveyed information in an accessible way. Even some medical books were in scrapbook form. His survival manual, the one he’d been working on forever, was the same. If he ever expected another troll to bother reading it, it had to be troll-friendly. That meant bright and sparkly. 

He made two pages of medical info for his collection. Basic diagrams and such. Ones that in an actual emergency, even with no other knowledge, a troll might be able to use to save a life. 

As the glue dried, he looked at the ceiling and let his mind wander. 

Scrapbooking and Poppy went together. The scent of craft glue always clung to her, but more importantly, scrapbooking was her specialty, and she did stunning work. Branch didn’t tell her that, but she knew. It shone in her eyes when she talked about it. She was so proud. His mind wandered over his shoulder and across the room. 

Her cards. If they weren’t friends, he should get rid of them. He couldn’t burn them, other trolls did that stuff when they broke up sometimes, but he couldn’t. Besides, he still loved her, regardless of what either of them did. Was it wrong to keep them, anyway?

Branch pulled out his pocket watch... his old pocket watch. It’s replacement needed less winding, weighed less, and sat somewhere at the bottom of the pond. 

Branch always like this one better anyway...

He flicked the cover open. 

Nearly midnight, curfew.

Poppy would be asleep soon.

He closed his eyes and touched his cheek. Her fingers touching him, knowing to was him. And he’d known it was her, too. He just didn’t believe it. But his heart knew. 

Would she be thinking of him? Now that was a crazy idea: Poppy laying in bed at night, trying to sleep with thoughts of him running through her mind, keeping her awake. He smiled to himself over the ridiculousness of it. With Poppy's carefree nature, Branch found it hard to believe that anything disturbed her sleep.

For him, it wasn’t so easy. Nightmares often plagued his dreams. Less in recent years, but still too many for sleep to seem like a safe place. 

Now and then, though, he’d manage to sleep without lying awake for hours. Poppy often played a part in those instances. Thinking of her, caught up in the memory of a touch, a hug, or her hand in his. Moments with her made his heart so much lighter. They warmed him and filled his mind so completely that the intrusive thoughts and feelings sometimes couldn’t break through. She protected him and he adored her for it.

Eyes closed and leaning backward in his chair, Branch daydreamed. Fantasized was a better, more accurate term. He practiced the art of it and considered himself a master. On a good day, the images awoke in his mind in stunning detail, such that he felt her warmth in his arms as he held her, the soft brush of her hair against his face, the tender way she smiled, and the unhesitating way she reached out to him. And now he had more things to imagine vividly. Like her breath begging him to kiss her, her hands running through his hair and over his ears, caressing him. Oh, the way she made him feel, still _makes_ him feel. Poppy sat there behind his closed eyes, loving him with all her heart, caressing and soothing his soul. Tingling sensations lingered where petal-soft kisses landed on his cheek. He lifted his hand and ran his fingers over his lips. 

He sighed and opened his eyes.

Branch let his hand sink back to his lap. It would never happen. He’d never have her, and when he saw her again, it wouldn’t be like before. Much as he treasured those memories, the cost was too high. 

She’d broken his trust.

But... she hadn’t meant to. What she’d done was stupid, but not malicious. Poppy was never that. If only they could put everything back as it was: argue back and forth, have her show up and invite him to things and drag him places... Those were the best moments of his life.

_He never deserved them to begin with._

One of his purported long time goals was driving her away for good. Maybe he’d finally achieved it. If he believed Poppy was better off, then he ought to leave things alone. Whatever he chose, it should be what was best for her and leave his feelings out of it.

God, he missed her. 

The red spine of his notebook was barely visible beneath the open medical book on his desk. He itched to write but hadn’t opened it since that last entry. He’d been a _bit_ distracted at the time and forgotten to fold the page. Now, the next time Branch opened his notebook, that entry would be waiting for him.

Writing would have to wait.

Why did he have to feel this way?

He sounded like a broken record, whining about it, but he _was_ trapped. No way forward, and irrationally, if he somehow had the option to stop loving her, he wouldn’t take it. Even if he never spoke to her again, he’d love her. Was that wrong? A week ago, he’d thought it was, so later, he’d probably think so again. But at the moment, he couldn’t quite remember _why_. Acting on it, sure, he could come up with reasons. But just loving her?

Where was the harm if he loved her quietly from afar? Who, beside him, would that hurt? Poppy was a dream. Like a wish on a star. Impossible, but beautiful, the kind of thing that kept you going when all else in the world crumbled into dust. 

Hope.

_A lie._

Poppy...

_Although your hand is near enough to touch,_

_The gap between us no words can bridge._

_And the type of distance that divides us_

_No amount of walking can traverse._

Groaning in frustration, he folded his arms and flopped down onto his desk, defeated. This whole thing sucked. Colossally. He pressed his forehead into the desk’s cool surface and threaded his fingers into his hair. How did he get here, to this point, where he loved her like this and could do nothing right! Where was the answer? Was he just too stupid to see it? Or was it the no-win situation it appeared to be? 

Poppy was just... _impossible!_ Screaming internally, he pulled down hard on his hair and ears. She was going to destroy him. The miserable thing in his chest that claimed to be his heart was to blame. If he could tear it out and shake sense into it, he would. He released his ears but didn’t move his hands. 

It wouldn’t matter; his heart didn’t listen to him. It was just like everyone else. He warned them, told them of the danger, repeatedly. But they didn’t listen. 

No one ever listened. 

_And it would get Poppy and everyone else killed._

In one motion, Branch swept the contents of his desk onto the floor and stood. The chair tipped from the jerky motion and tangled with his legs. He swore, kicking the infuriating thing away from him. He grabbed the corners of his desk with both hands, torn between trying to control his impotent rage and attempting to rip the desk from the wall. He hung his head, white-knuckled grip on the corners, furious and terrified.

 _Powerless_.

They would all die because he wasn’t strong enough or convincing enough. 

Poppy would die because he couldn’t make her listen.

He’d lose her. Far worse than this.

_And it would be his fault._

His shoulders and arms hurt from the way he’d locked them. He’d been clenching his teeth so hard his jaw ached. All of that was nothing. 

Nothing compared to losing everyone. 

To losing Poppy.

Blurry vision distorted the view of his desk as dark wet spots populated its wooden surface.

Branch tucked his chin against his chest, eyes shut, and held his breath. All it accomplished was an explosive sob when he released the breath. He couldn’t do this, not again. He tried to swallow the next, but the sound forced itself out, dragging air harshly over his throat as it went. This was another battle he couldn’t win but still fought—despite the odds, the pain, and the dead certainty with which he knew it was all doomed to fail... Branch fought anyway. 

Sobs choked him and he sank to his knees on the floor. Branch fought against something he couldn’t name until, too exhausted to struggle, he slept.

In the morning, he showered, ate a decent meal, and faced his journal. But he chose not to fold the page, determined that this chapter of his life wasn’t as concluded as he’d believed. Instead, lower on the same page, he finished the poem he started composing the night before. 

\- - - 

_Although your hand is near enough to touch,_

_The gap between us no words can bridge._

_The type of distance that divides us_

_No amount of walking can traverse._

_Yet no expanse of miles could ever keep me._

_So, if you ever need me, I’ll be there._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, if you'd like to let me know what you think, like, etc. I'd love to read about it!  
> Posts will probably slow down for a bit while I right a little further ahead.  
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	12. To Good to be True

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He must be dreaming, because this can’t actually be happening.

It’s incredible how fast things change. Branch slid his journal across his desk to dry. Over the last couple of days, he’d actually managed to get some work done. Poppy didn’t stop by, and he avoided the village. It was working. Not fun, but functional. That’s all he really asked of life, that it function.

Branch twirled his pen, deciding what to do now. An empty chair sat beside the desk, cluttering up the place. He’d gotten it from storage after his usual chair, um... broke. He’d repaired it, of course, but now both chairs were taking up space near his desk.

He should put it back. What did he need with two chairs?

But there it sat, two days later.

He should put it back.

Tomorrow.

In the morning, he would. Keeping an extra chair around was pointless.

\---

Something was off. He checked every room in the bunker and found nothing to explain the noise that woke him. It was probably a dream, that happened sometimes. Branch climbed back down the ladder that connected the levels of his bunker.

He slowed his steps. There was something or someone there. Branch crept, careful to make as little sound as possible.

Nothing.

An empty room, he must be imagining things. Branch sighed and turned toward his bedroom.

“Branch?”

“Poppy?” She stood there, impossibly, in the middle of the main room. “What are you doing here? How did you get in?”

“I wanted to see you. You’ve been staying away from the village.”

“I know...”

“Why?”

“I just have been, ok.” Why was she here? Couldn’t she see what she did to him?

“Hey.” Poppy placed her hand on his shoulder, “I’m here for you, Branch. You can talk to me.”

Branch grit his teeth, “but I can’t.”

“Is this about us?”

“Poppy, there is no us. There never will be.”

With a sigh, Poppy stepped in close behind Branch and draped her arms around him, her chin on his shoulder.

“Never is a long time.” He longed to relax into her embrace, to finally breathe again.

“Poppy...” but he shouldn’t. She wasn’t for him.

“I love you, Branch. And I think you love me too.” Poppy nuzzled into his shoulder, hugging him tightly. “But, if it’s what you want… Tell me you don’t love me, and I’ll leave you alone. For real this time, you won’t have to see me again.”

She meant it. If he said that, she wouldn’t be back. She’d let him go. He’d have what he claimed to want.

To never see her again. Never have her touch him or hug him again. No more visits. No conversations. No arguments. No banter. No invitations, or smiles, or laughter. No shared experiences. No brief moments of joy. No love.

No Poppy.

I can’t live in a world with no Poppy.

“Branch?”

“Please. I need to think.”

“What’s there to think about?”

He put his hand on her arm, pressing it into his chest. “Please, Poppy.” I can’t make this choice. “I can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

He’s crying, god, when did that start. He leaned his head back onto her, and she shifted to support him. Attempting to control his breathing only caused him to whimper, and Poppy held him tighter.

“Oh, Branch...” The caring in her voice was almost too much to take. He shook his head. What could he say?

“I... Poppy, I don’t want you to go.” This was terrible, but he couldn’t give her up forever. Spending the rest of his life without her? Branch was breaking apart inside just thinking about it. She loosened her grip and let him go. With his eyes closed, it was like the world had been ripped away. When he opened them, Poppy knelt down and sat facing him. At what point did he stop standing? Poppy, he wished... no. It would never be. He looked away, but she reached out and lightly guided him back to look at her.

“I love you, Branch.” She looked back and forth between his eyes, searching for an answer. She glanced down, and her hands wrapped around his. Poppy lifted her gaze to his, her eyes pleading for him to understand. “I love you.”

Too much. Branch looked down at their clasped hands. This was way too much. “I’m scared, Poppy. I’m so scared.”

“Why? Of what?”

“This. With you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know.” He laughed, “I don’t, either.”

Poppy squeezed his hands, “Branch... If you don’t love me—”

“That’s not—” he hadn’t meant to speak. But he’d started... “That’s not it.” He took a deep breath. “I’m scared... because I _do_ love you, Poppy. I love you, and I shouldn’t.”

“What? Why? Branch if you love me too, then nothing else matters.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Branch...”

“I’m so much older than you. We don’t belong together, Poppy.”

“Branch, it’s a few years. What does that matter? Besides, we decide if we belong together, no one else.”

How can she be so sure? So confident.

She caressed his cheek, and he melted, leaning into her touch.

“Poppy...” it came out as a soft cry, pleading. “Please...” he was begging, but for what? “Please...”

She was killing him, taking him apart, one piece after another. She was doing it with her love, and if she kept at it, she’d find him. The real him.

She ran her hand over his shoulder and down his arm, rubbing gently and trying to soothe him, murmured to him as she did. Then Poppy leaned forward and pulling him into her arms and held him. Together with Poppy like this, Branch couldn’t withstand it, couldn’t hold back, and finally, fully broke down. Body wracking sobs shook him, his pain and grief washed over him, taking him over, beating and breaking his defenses. But he wasn’t alone. This time, he had Poppy. She was there, holding and caressing, keeping him from being washed away. She pulled him in and held him in her lap like a child. Like what he believed she was. But she wasn’t.

She was herself, 16 years old, but herself. She always was, and she would be at any age. He was too, 22, but still, the boy who needed someone, anyone, but no one was there. He was still the teen, furious with the world for abandoning him and denying that it had. He was still the man who at 22 could no longer deny what he felt for his dearest friend. That love had changed to include attraction, romantic love, but was afraid that it was wrong. All throughout, he was himself, Branch.

Branch who loved Poppy. And loved her completely. Always.

Everything that made him, him. Poppy touched it in some way.

He loved his annoying little friend when she was small, loved the kid she grew into as they got older, his best friend who loved him and always kept a place in her heart for him. The young teen he found crying in the woods when bullies teased her about him and told her he would disappear. He’d held her while she cried, terrified of losing him. She was 11 years old, and he held her just like she held him now.

He was small and broken. Scared to death of losing what he loved most, so much that he pushed her away.

As his crying lessened, she guided him to lift his head and wiped the tears from his cheeks. She brought him close and bumped his nose with hers, and when he didn’t draw back, she nuzzled his cheek.

Poppy continued, and he didn’t pull away. He would let her in, finally, and leaned back enough to see her face. In her expression, he saw reflected what he felt inside, longing, pain of holding back, fear of rejection, and love. Love like he never imagined he would find.

He exhaled. He was crying again, but Poppy smiled and wiped those tears, too. She leaned in to kiss his cheek and nuzzle him before hovering for a brief moment over his lips.

Branch looked up at the ceiling of his room as reality crashed back into place. His eyes stung, his face and pillow were wet. He rolled into his side, holding himself together, and wept.

4 am. It wouldn’t be light for most of an hour. He breathed carefully. A break from crying would be nice, just for a while, but tears still burned behind his eyes. It wasn’t fair. In his dream, he’d let her in to see the broken troll he was, and she loved him completely, like he loved her. With dreams like that, waking up felt like dying. Torn from the reality he needed and wanted more than anything and waking here, alone.

He couldn’t go on like this much more. Out of bed and on the way to the village, the sun was climbing, but not yet over the horizon. What did he think he was doing. He had plans, work to do, traps to attend, but he was rushing impulsively toward her pod. To do what, exactly? Not wake her. Not creep up to her window to see her. Why go there?

_He had to._

It made no sense at all, but he had to, just to be near her.

He rounded the bend and saw her pod. Branch’s heart soared to it, pulling him along. Hope rose in his chest as he approached. Ridiculous, unreasonable hope carried him all the way to limb across from her pod. He held onto the tree to keep from crossing that gap and standing on the balcony of the pod itself.

What did his heart expect would happen, that his dream would suddenly come true?

_Was already true._

With difficulty, he relaxed his legs enough to sit. Branch focused on his breathing. Poppy was in there.

_Please come find me, Poppy._

Was that why he was here? He shook his head at himself. She wasn’t going to wake up and walk out looking for him. It was 4:30 am. She was asleep, probably dreaming about rainbows and hugs.

Branch sighed. It was totally irrational, but he felt better than he had in days. Possibly a lot longer.

He wasn’t going to act on it, but he loved her, longed to be with her. And he held onto that tiny hope that she might love him too.

Branch got to his feet. Almost 5 am and the sun was inching its way higher over the horizon. He’d check the traps and go about his day. And think about her. Daydream and perhaps write about her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, I hope you like the chapter. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading.  
> And thanks for commenting. Knowing what you all think/feel helps and encourages me to keep working on this and writing in general. (And helps me gauge what works and what doesn't!) So thanks!


	13. Trust and Confidence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poppy goes to Cybil for advice.

“This sucks... It’s been forever!” Poppy drummed her fingers on Cybil’s kitchen table. The guru didn’t comment. She simply continued preparing a pot of tea at the counter.  
“Ok. Fine, it’s been a week. Almost. Tomorrow it will have been a _whole_ week.”

Poppy was overreacting a bit... Ok, a lot.

“Sorry I’m complaining like this, but... Argh, Branch!” Poppy jumped up and paced across the pod’s kitchen, unable to sit still. “What’s with him?” Branch acting like this really tangled her hair. “How am I supposed to fix it? Because I gotta fix it. Like, now. Like, yesterday!”

Oh, man, yesterday! The guy made less sense all the time!

“Wait until you hear this, Cybil. Yesterday.” Poppy paused for effect. “He hid from me. That’s right. In the middle of the village. He _actually_ hid from me. Behind a big leaf. A leaf...I mean, come on! So I pretended not to see him. That’s what he wanted, right? Had to be, else _why hide!_ ” She threw her hands up into the air, her voice pitched too high, and she was talking too fast—but she was justified. “Ooo, I’m so mad. Biggie saw, too. Probably half of everybody. What’s his deal! He _asked_ for this. And I’m doing it, aren’t I? Because I’m a good friend—no, an awesome one.”

_But not to Branch._

The wind went totally out of her sails, and Poppy plopped into a chair as Cybil set the tea tray on the table.

“Why won’t he make sense?” She frowned at the table’s surface, energy spent.

And the ache was back. It was like someone sitting on her chest.

“I have to fix things with him, Cybil. This sucks. He’s so stubborn! I just... he said he didn’t hate me, so what gives!

Fighting with Branch was never any fun. That fight, though, that was worse than usual. It came out of nowhere, and she was left scrambling to catch up. Even going back over it now, she wasn’t entirely sure.

Branch had just stood there, facing away from her, shoulders slumped. It felt like he was shutting her out.

“But, but you said you didn’t hate me.”

“I don’t. But I don’t want to _look_ at you, either.” When he turned to face her, the pain and disappointment Poppy saw almost made her step back.

“How could you, Poppy? How could you think that was ok? Huh!”

“I don’t know.”

“Yeah... me neither.”

“But we’re still friends, so—”

“You don’t get to decide that, I say who my friends are, not you.” This was going downhill and fast. She couldn’t get ahead of it.

“But Branch, I am your friend.” How could he doubt that? She loved him. Where was this coming from? They were fine earlier on the lily pad when she expected him to be mad. But now?

“My friend?” He scoffed at the idea and spat the words. “Seriously! I don’t think so, Poppy. Friends don’t do shit like that! So stay away from me.”

Ouch. He was right. She knew it. But if she stayed away, how would she fix it? They had to stay friends. If they kept seeing one another, it'd blow over, or they’d work it out. Branch couldn't leave it like this.

“Ok, I screwed up, but I _am_ your friend.”

“Oh yeah. Then, as my friend, stay away from me, Poppy. _Prove_ you’re my friend and leave me alone!” He yelled the last part, the last several parts, really. But the last part... it was a challenge and a trap. If she didn’t do it, it proved she wasn’t his friend. If she did it, then things wouldn't get better, and they’d stop _being_ friends.

“But Branch—” He couldn’t want that. He couldn’t _actually_ mean it, but if he walked away and they left things like this... he wasn’t listening. If she let her pain show, he’d realize she was sincere. But Branch didn’t give her a chance.

“No. That’s it. I’m out. Don’t come after me, got it?”

Before she could react, he stomped away.

“Fine! If that’s what you want. I’ll prove it. I’ll prove I’m your friend.” The way he proposed was stupid, but she’d do it until she came up with something better. She cared—oh, gumdrops, Branch—she loved him. He had to realize that.

“Whatever.” He muttered loud enough for her to hear. It hurt, and Branch had intended it to. That made it hurt even more.

“I _am_ your friend...” She didn’t follow him. Poppy stayed stuck to the spot, trying to make sense of Branch walking away. Leaving her. Trying to leave their friendship. Acting as if she wasn’t his friend at all.

Branch disappeared in the dark.

Poppy screwed up. She screwed up so bad. Branch needed her in his life, she was sure of it, but he walked away _anyway_. And she let him—for now. Hurt, angry Branch said things he didn’t always mean. Later, when he wasn’t angry, she’d try again. She’d find a way to make things right.

“...Bye, Branch.” Poppy didn’t bother to yell. He was long gone.

And he left without even saying goodbye.

That fight sucked so bad that she never wanted to have another one.

_They wouldn’t if she couldn’t fix this._

But she wasn’t getting anywhere. A week had passed since then, and she wasn’t any closer to fixing things.

So here she was, ranting to Cybil. She didn’t love it, but the guru was exactly the troll she ought to see. She wouldn’t judge or gossip and might have answers. And it’s not as awkward talking with someone if they already knew what was going on, that was part of Cybil’s gift. She had a sense about these things.

“So, what can I help you with—I’m afraid if you want to make amends, that must come from you.”

“Oh. I do want to, so much! Please, you gotta give me something? I’m scared he’ll push me away even more.”

“Hmm... I may be able to help if you can answer me truthfully. Why did you do it, Princess Poppy?”

“Oh, you know about that?...” Poppy glanced around; no handy distraction presented itself. She sighed. Cybil knew, so if she lied, it would only be to herself. “I don’t know. I thought... I told myself it was for him, but I was so excited... I guess I, um... I think I was selfish.”

“Hmm...”

“I didn’t mean to be, I just—what am I gonna do, Cybil, I... I can’t lose him. Not his friendship. Did I ruin everything?”

“Of course not. You can never ruin everything; there is just too much of it.”

“Even after I did that? I have no idea what came over me. I’ve never done that before. I just couldn’t believe Branch was there. It’s so not his party. I mean, come on, Branch doesn’t even like to be touched.”

“And now the two for you aren’t speaking.” Cybil’s level tone brought Poppy back to the reason she was there.

“Yeah…”

Cybil sipped her tea.

“So, what do I do?”

“Well, what’s your goal? Friendship or... something else.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“To those know how to see properly, but not everyone.”

“He loves someone else.”

“He said that? To you? Now, that surprises me.”

“No, not exactly, but it was obvious. You didn’t see him, Cybil.”

“Things aren’t always what they seem to be. You can’t know what he feels unless he tells you.”

“But he won’t talk to me. Ugh. This is such a mess!” Poppy put her head down on the table. “I screwed up big, didn’t I?”

“You wronged him, so give him time. When he’s ready, he’ll come to you... And don’t lose hope, my dear. I’d be astonished if Branch isn’t in love with you.”

“Oh, Cybil! You have no idea how much... Oh, or maybe you do.”

“Trust Cybil, darling. She knows.”

Poppy got up and hugged the guru.

“Thank you, Cybil. I gotta run, ok?”

Another quick hug and Poppy took off. Dad was expecting her for dinner.

But she’s just supposed to wait? Waiting for Branch to be social? She might as well wait for... actually, she couldn’t think of anything _that_ unlikely or slow. Maybe her not liking hugs or something equally weird.

She stopped walking.

If waiting really was the answer, it was gonna be a while. Maybe forever... If all she did was wait, she might never see Branch again.

Poppy needed to think... but being hungry made that way harder. And she needed hugs. Lots of hugs. Poppy checked her bracelet. Oops! She’d have to run to make it to dad’s before hug-time!

—

“I know you listened in.” His mentor stood by the window, teacup in hand.

“Just practicing my trade.” Creek watched as the happy princess scampered away. But she paused, and a concerning expression, rather like sadness or deep thought, crossed her face before she took off again.

“Uh, huh. And what do you intend to do with the information?”

“Why, help the Princess, naturally.”

“Only the princess?”

“Certainly not.” As his training progressed, Cybil’s concern over her choice of pupil grew. But she hadn’t made a mistake. He would be an exceptional guru.

“You must not play favorites, Creek. All trolls need guidance from time to time. Don’t let your fondness for her affect your duties, understand?”

“Yes, Cybil.” He’d regain her confidence. All he needed was an opportunity.

“Now go and find out what you can about Branch.”

Creek grinned to himself. Branch, hmm... if he convinced that grumpy grey lump to come to them, she’d have to recognize his worth and continue his instruction. He would not remain “in-training” forever.

“Yes, Cybil. Straight away.”


	14. Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Creek updates Cybil. Poppy waits for Branch.

“I haven’t much to report, I’m sorry to say. As far as I can tell, Branch hasn’t visited the village since before the princess spoke with you. Possibly as long as 6 days, the last time being when he was with Doctor Plum. Princess Poppy hasn’t gone to see him, either. And I’m still unsure where he lives, exactly.”

Creek cringed at the memory. A several-hour hike with Cooper was not his idea of fun. Delightful as Cooper could be, he had the sense of direction of a magnet with a compass. Creek rubbed his hip. Even riding on Cooper took a toll after a while.

“Have you learned anything about Branch himself?”

“Aside from what is commonly known, not much. He’s kept very much to himself for basically his whole life.” The princess was likely a wealth of information, but asking her was out of the question. Branch’s absence and their fight hurt her deeply. If Poppy wanted to tell him about it, Creek would be more than happy to listen. But she hurt enough without him bringing it up and reminding her about it. 

Creek had already been forced to meditate longer than usual these last few days to achieve inner peace and center himself. The way Branch treated her irked him; it wasn’t right. Princess Poppy deserved to be treated with more respect and kindness. 

“How about more recently?”

“He’s studying with Plum, but it doesn’t sound as if he wants to be a doctor.”

“Anything else.”

“A few childhood anecdotes from the king, but otherwise nothing.”

“Very well. Thank you, Creek.”

He nodded politely to his mentor and headed for the waterfall. It was lovely there in the afternoon, and the sound from the water made it so much easier to focus his energy. He relaxed just thinking about it and allowed his mind to wander, but flinched as his attention shifted to his hip. Yoga this evening might be a challenge, but the most problematic forms were easily avoidable. As for the others, he could select one of his students to demonstrate. 

Poppy missed yoga the previous few days; also her grey “friend’s” fault. The degree that she allowed him to affect her was outrageous. Poppy was too selfless; she should put herself and her needs first sometimes. Selfishness could be useful if properly directed and tempered by compassion. Creek had hoped Branch might teach her that. He was certainly selfish enough. Although perhaps lacking in compassion.

Creek expected too much, clearly. Rude, negative, hurtful comments and sarcastic remarks—that was all Branch contributed to the world. That and a distinct air of superiority, as if he knew what was best for everyone. Bergens, the nerve he had, bringing them up and upsetting everyone time and again. When would he learn that no one cared about his paranoid delusions?

Creek was letting Branch affect his mood too much. He paused and focused on his breath, letting it deepen and relax his diaphragm, and exhaled slowly, expelling the negative energy that Branch always stirred. These feelings were an obstacle to his success, just like Branch himself. Creek wouldn’t let a bad vibe or ugly feelings stand between him and becoming the guru he was meant to be.

\- - -

Poppy leaned on the window ledge, looking out over the village. The flutter of the leaves joined the hums and chirps in tonight’s nocturnal symphony.

“Poppy, sweetheart, go to bed. Doctor’s orders, remember?” King Peppy kissed his daughter on the cheek and shut the flap as he left.

Poppy sighed and turned half-heartedly toward her bed. She should sleep, her bed was cozy, and she loved to snuggle down under the covers. But her attention flew straight back out the window and into the night after her elusive friend. He should’ve come by now… and hadn’t. Where are you, Branch? 

_What if he hated her after all?_

Poppy rolled onto her side. Her glowbug friend slept in a basket beside her.

“That’s not possible, right?” She reached out to scritch the little bug. He didn’t wake to comment on what Branch might or might not be feeling. “Of course it’s not, Branch is my friend...” Poppy patted the sleeping glowbug and snuggled down under her blankets and sheets. She sighed, turning her thoughts back to the window. Why did she keep staring out there longing to see him? Branch almost never visited her before all this, and he wasn’t likely to start now. 

“He’ll want to see me again someday, though... I hope.”

She should at least try to sleep. Things were always better in the morning, right? Or was it brighter? It _was_ brighter in the morning, assuming you said it at night. That seemed kindof redundant. “Better” had to be the word. Either way, Poppy really needed tomorrow to be better. Maybe Branch would come tomorrow. That would be so much better. Branch would come tomorrow—she’d plan on that, even if it was just a maybe. So tomorrow things would most definitely be better. 

“NO!” Poppy sat bolt upright, nightmare-induced terror left her gasping as her heart raced.

He can’t be—he can’t—

It took time to recognize her room. Her heart, her thoughts, all of her attention remained with Branch. 

But it wasn't real. Just a dream.

A nightmare.

In it, trolls had stood all around her. Motionless. Quiet. In the muddy illumination, she glimpsed colors in the crowd, but not enough to identify anyone. Then in an area concealed by shadow at the edge of the group, something moved.

Poppy stepped towards it—noiseless footfalls against a wooden floor. 

Silence reigned here.

As she drew closer, the shape within the shadow resolved into a troll, yet indistinguishable but familiar. He reached up and lightly strummed a thread that connected them, his heart and her heart. The vibration left her breathless. As it faded, she looked around. Threads connected trolls to one another. Everyone had some, most had many. Poppy glanced down, her own connected her with everyone. 

Something caught her eye. A flicker, the glint of steel in the shadow. 

Fear shocked through her. Scissors. He couldn’t, mustn’t. Poppy fell into a dead-run. But she’d never make it; too far—

Cold blue eyes met hers. 

The grind of metal-on-metal and snip echoed off the nothing. Scissors slid from unresisting fingers as tension fled his body and Branch crumpled to the ground.

Only a dream.

Poppy hugged a pillow to her chest, crushing it against her. But it couldn’t fill the ragged hole that seeing Branch collapse like that had caused. She tucked her head, pressing it into the pillow and trying not to scream. Not to cry.

Branch was fine. 

_... he wasn’t, not really._

But he wasn’t… whatever happened there, either. 

Poppy waited, trying not to think, as the dream lost some of its vividness. But the image of Branch as he fell stayed stuck in her mind and would not be moved. If she couldn’t fix it, she might never sleep again. 

A hug or twenty would really help a lot... but it was 4 am. So, no hugs for at least another 3, probably 4 hours. Poppy sat on her bed in the dark. If not a hug, then memories of feeling close would have to do. Poppy pulled down a scrapbook from a nearby shelf: the Fabulous Adventures of Poppy and Friends. Colorful cutouts of good times always helped her feel better. Poppy flipped through to the pages with Branch. She needed to see him, really see him, not this. 

But he wasn’t here.

But on the page, a cutout version of Branch fled from a very young mud-covered Poppy. They were both so very young in this one.

She flipped to another, the forest at twilight and young scrapbook-Poppy searching the woods for Branch. He’d hated that adventure, but she included it anyway. 

Paper-Poppy traveled across the page, looking for her missing friend, and disappeared behind a bush. That’s when scrapbook-Branch popped up. Poppy pulled the tab, revealing young paper-Branch. The next tab had him pushing the bush aside to see an injured little paper-Poppy on the ground in the distance. Poppy turned the page, and as it opened, paper-Branch rushed to the little paper princess. When he reached her, the next tab revealed scrapbook-Branch cradling little Poppy in his arms to carry her home. 

She ran her fingers over the scrapbook versions of their younger selves. Branch had been so scared, finding her like that, but he promised to come home and hadn’t stayed away for long since. It didn’t matter that she only saw him briefly. Or that they rarely did more than throw a few quips back and forth before he disappeared in a huff. All of that was ok because he was there.

Poppy brushed tears from her cheeks, still smiling at the page. It was so clear that paper-Branch loved paper-Poppy. She was happy for them. They always got a happy ending.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Just had to get some story things sorted, and I think they are. And please me know what you think!  
> Thanks for reading!


	15. Information Gathering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Branch decides what to do now, y’know, since Poppy has finally given up on him... right? Why else would she stay away?

Dear Poppy

Did I finally drive you away? I know I told you to leave me alone countless times, but it was a lie—sometimes to you, sometimes to myself, but always a lie. God, I’m dumb. I thought you’d be back, same as always, trying to prove how much you ~~care~~ cared.

I know I was the one who told you to stay away. But if you’d warned me, if you told me that this time if I asked, you would actually stop... then nothing could drag those words from my lips. Nothing.

Is there some way I can take it back? Please give me a hint? I’m a hopeless mess when you’re around, but I’m lost without you. Do you know that? I guess you don’t. I miss you, Poppy. 

I miss you.

...

Branch sat in a tree outside his bunker, chewing on his pen, journal in his lap. He should write her for real, not in his journal—a real letter... one more for the pile of other real letters he’s never going to give her. 

Ugh. This was impossible. How was he supposed to get anything done? Poppy wasn’t even around and he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

Branch sighed. He set his journal aside, scrubbed his brow and pressed on his eyelids with his palms. Last night, sleep stayed away from him too. Where are you, Poppy... 

This was a nightmare. He looked out toward the village.

Nightmare or not, it felt wrong not to have Poppy show up. She never stayed out of his hair for more than a week. If he failed to put in an appearance in the village for two days, she’d be here day three.

_Nine days._

Nine days with no Poppy. And, except for that one early-morning visit to her pod and checking his traps at dawn, Branch hadn’t gone near the village. She should’ve been here, banging down his door, almost a week ago. 

Poppy finally gave up on him. It was bound to happen eventually, and now it had...

_Unless something happened._

He should go to the village... for supplies.

His scrapbooking things were running low, and he still had Plums books. She wasn’t expecting him until tomorrow...

_Poppy never stayed away this long._

...so if he wanted to scrapbook more first-aid pages for his survival manual, he should go now. It was almost 6. If he hurried, Harper might still be home. 

Branch stowed his journal and went to grab the materials he gathered to trade with her. 

Branch walked the path to Harper’s with ears wide and alert for conversation. Trolls loved to gossip. If anything had happened to Poppy, they’d be talking about it. After morning song the rumor mill really got going… that was when Branch usually cruised for gossip. More trolls gathered together made for more efficient eavesdropping. This late in the day, however, this part of the village was abandoned and scarcely populated. Almost everyone had joined a party for the evening or already gone home. 

It might be worth trying one of the parties... If he was cautious, no one would see him. 

Or go home and do this in the morning.

_But nine days..._

Branch forced his attention back to the present. He needed to stay focused, but the idea of anything untoward happening to Poppy derailed his thoughts. Surely _someone_ would have told him... Biggie, maybe? 

... He’d gotten distracted again. Poppy’s pod was visible through the leaves ahead; he’d absently let himself get that close. The lights were out, typical for the time of day, and no reason for concern. 

But Branch _was_ concerned. What-ifs jumped up in his mind as he backtracked and checked the village perimeter. He was already here, after all. By the time he arrived at Harper’s, she wasn’t home. Probably at one of the parties like everyone else. Branch did peek in at a few of them during his perimeter check: no Poppy. But there were several more in the middle he hadn’t visited. She must be at one of those.

The existence of this many parties reassured him. 

He laughed under his breath. Poppy goes missing on him and parties make him feel better. She really turned his world upside down… On any other day, that statement would be insane, but today, it meant things in the village were, well... normal. 

It was early morning, or at least what’s called “early morning” by those unaccustomed to waking predawn. Branch skirted the village listening for gossip. Just off the path, a group of trolls mingled as they enjoyed a communal breakfast.

Under the guise of collecting kindling, Branch wandered closer to the group, stopping before he became too conspicuous. At this distance, he caught only snippets of conversation. His fellow trolls enjoyed the drama of sharing rumors in hushed tones and conspiratorial whispers. 

“Oh, she said...” “How awful...” 

“Hopefully, it’s nothing...” 

“I feel so sorry for her...”

“The poor thing...” 

“I can’t imagine...” “... it’s a rumor...”

“...not serious, right?...” 

“...I think so, but that’s...” 

“No, not recently...” “She’s been...”

“...she didn’t seem...” 

“Princess Poppy?...”

His ears pricked at her name.

“...probably nothing, but he said...”

They turned, and he missed the part of it he needed most.

“Oh no! Really?”

“Yep, really...” 

Ok, he’d heard enough. There was definitely gossip. Something was going on, and it involved Poppy. 

_...something bad._

Branch headed for her pod. He wasn’t worried... he just had to see her. 

Poppy wasn’t at her pod, her dad’s, or any of her usual haunts. Predictably, his random search wasn’t working. If he waited around her pod—

Hanging around her pod? That wasn’t ok. Branch stopped and leaned against the tree. 

Why was he acting this crazy? There was always gossip, and he didn’t usually freak out like this. 

But Poppy didn’t usually disappear on him, either. 

_What if she was hurt or sick?_

Medical Pod. He had to go there anyway. 

“Branch, mate.”

Perfect. Just what he didn’t need.

\- - -

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it.”

Branch huffed and crossed his arms to scowl at Creek. 

“What do you want, Creek.”

At least Branch liked to get to the point—an admirable quality in anyone with whom you’d prefer not to waste your time.

“Well, my friend, as I’m sure you’re aware, I’m in training as a guru troll. As part of that training, I need to look out for those less fortunate than myself.”

Branch scoffed at that and set about collecting sticks, seemingly his favorite pastime.

“Ordinarily, mate, I’d be happy to cast barbs at one another, but that’s not why I’m here?” 

Branch pretended to ignore him, turning his back on Creek. “I’ve been struggling with a puzzle, you see, and thoughts of you intruded on my morning meditation. And no offense, mate, but I don’t think of you.” 

“Get lost, Creek,” Branch, eloquent as ever.

“Regretfully, I cannot.” Creek settled cross-legged on a small moss-covered boulder. He inspected his manicure and pulled a nail file from his hair. “I’m trying to help her, you see. But the poor thing... there isn’t much I can do.” 

“Her?”

“Why, Princess Poppy, of course.” 

Branch stiffened. Creek grinned at the tactic he’d selected. 

“Her aura has been so different this week. I’ve been trying to not put any demands on the poor girl.”

“W-what do you mean, different?” 

“I really shouldn’t say, but I do so hope you can help. Her energy is altogether out of balance. How can I put it so you’ll understand… it’s rather like she’s been grievously wounded. It’s painful to see such a sweet girl suffering so.”

Creek blew the dust from his nails as he watched Branch’s back. Remaining that still required considerable effort. That, coupled with Branch’s cautious breathing, betrayed how deeply the news affected him.

“If it is not addressed before the damage becomes irreversible... why, my heart goes out to the girl.” Even Branch’s hair seemed depressed to hear this “news” about Princess Poppy.

Even unsettled, Branch shrugged a bit stiffly. “What’s that got to do with me?” 

Ah, as delightfully uncooperative as ever.

“She isn’t speaking to anyone, you see, but something _must_ have happened,” Creek stowed the file in his hair and hopped down from his mossy perch. “I had hoped you might shed some light on things. I do as much as I can, but I’m simply unable to help our beloved princess without more information.” Since Creek brought up dear, sweet Princess Poppy, Branch had failed to gather a single twig. 

But still nothing to say, hmm?

“Thank you for your time, Branch. It’s unfortunate. I’d really pinned my hopes on you, my friend. Well, thanks anyway.” 

Creek turned and walked away. Branch would come to them; he cared about the princess too much not to. No one was “coincidentally” there in the nick of time, as often as Branch, by accident. If Princess Poppy was in trouble, Branch wasn’t far behind.

\- - -

Branch approached the medical pod from the trees. 

The flap opened and pink _—_

_Poppy!_

He ducked behind a cluster of leaves. His heart definitely “raced at possibly being seen” and not “leapt to see her.” Branch swallowed, ignoring the excited flutter in his chest, and pushed aside the leaf that hid her from view. Poppy made her way down the path, hanging her head and not looking around as she walked. Where was her usual spunkiness? That obnoxiously cheerful attitude? 

Plum and Moonbloom’s conversation carried far enough for Branch to catch the most critical part.

“It’s a broken heart. I wish there was something we could do, but it’ll either heal on its own or...”

“Yes, but at this stage, that looks to be the likely outcome.”

Poppy? A broken heart? That’s not possible. She couldn’t... He turned and followed her. And they said it was bad... it sounded like they thought it was so bad that... that...

_...that she was dying._

No way—Poppy couldn’t die of a broken heart! Not because of him! 

The thought pierced him, his core, his heart, and stabbed into that little bit of hope he carried with him, because of her. Of everything he held dear, everything that mattered, Poppy came first. 

_Except she didn’t, did she?_

He stumbled, catching himself on hands and knees, and luck he didn’t fall from the tree altogether. He swallowed hard, pushing down the sick feeling that rose as that realization gutted him. When he had the chance, he chose himself over her. He protected his feelings at the expense of hers. And now...

At the flap of her pod, Poppy sighed. She looked resigned as she entered and tapped the flap shut behind her—Poppy never shut that flap; it stayed open through practically everything. 

Cool wended its way through his intestines as Branch landed on her balcony. He pressed his hand against the pod's soft exterior and leaned his head against it, eyes closed. 

This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be.

“Poppy... I’m sorry.” He assumed her feelings were nothing and was wrong. He balled his hands into fists, shaking, struggling to keep calm. The impulse to rush inside and pull her into his arms nearly overwhelmed sense. But he needed to think. Poppy wasn’t grey, so it couldn’t be that bad. But Doctor Moonbloom said it was... and he’d gotten her feelings so very wrong before. “I’ll fix this, Poppy...” Branch grit his teeth, digging his fingers into the coarse fibers. “... I swear I will.”

Mind made up, he stepped back and swung higher into the trees. He needed help. If Poppy was... if she needed him, his pride could go die somewhere. He’d kill it himself if it got in the way of fixing this. Poppy _couldn’t_ die of a broken heart. Whatever he had to do to prevent it, he’d do it. 

Including asking Creek for help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I’ve been going over this and the next few chapters for over a month! Any feed back would be great. How you felt, If it’s working for you, what do you think about it? That kind of thing... 
> 
> (If it’s falling flat I’d love to know why!) 
> 
> Currently looking like it’s going to be 19-21ish chapters, depending on how I break them up. Just FYI.
> 
> Also, sorry for being a needy writer at the moment! Thanks so much for sticking with the story! I really hope is an enjoyable read.

**Author's Note:**

> Wildkat, Thanks for beta reading and your support with this story! I really appreciate it.


End file.
